Old Friends Long Gone
by CorellianBlue
Summary: An old friend from Han's past turns up, and she wants some answers from him. Will Leia help her get those answers? (Is this really from 2002? Revised on this end-of-winter night in August 2015. The pic, as always, courtesy of the lovely Leela Starsky. And that's me in the pic, folks. Not that Leela ever said it was, but I can tell. Love you, LS, even if you made me an Imperial!)
1. Chapter 1

Old Friends Long Gone…  
by CorellianBlue

 **I**

 _Unsettled._

It was not a word that Leia had ever thought applied to herself, yet that was the only description she could come up with for the way she currently felt. The way she had felt for the last ten days.

It was nothing she could really put her finger on. Through the Force, she sensed no danger or trouble. Yet the skin of her scalp was stretched tight, a weight sat in her stomach, and she found it increasingly difficult to keep her mind from wandering. _Wandering to worry about Han,_ she chided herself.

From her position at the large oval table in the _Azure Blue's_ main conference room, the princess had an impressive view of the variety of vessels now in orbit above the Bothan homeworld, Bothawui. Despite her best efforts, she could not get used to the sight before her. In addition to the ten ships of the Rebel Alliance Task Force, including the Calamari cruiser Leia was stationed on, a flotilla of Imperial Naval vessels hovered ominously nearby. The closest Imperial vessel to the _Azure Blue_ , the largest and positioned not one ship's length away, was the command ship, an immense 1,600-metre long Star Destroyer. Nestled below the horizontal plane of the Mon Cal cruiser, the destroyer's command tower filled half the viewport. Beyond the wedge-shaped vessel lay three more _Imperial_ -class Star Destroyers, before Leia could discern the bulbous profile of the _Blue's_ sister ship, _Girt-by-Sea_. The remaining ships of the Alliance Task Force— Corellian corvettes, escort frigates and the fish-shaped transport vessels—effectively boxed in a lone _Lancer_ -class frigate, according it a level of respect derived from the reputation it had as a formidable capital ship of the Empire.

In a gesture of mutual trust and respect between Imperial and Alliance forces, all vessels had lowered their shields. The other distinctly odd feature about this conglomeration of forces was the lack of fighters conducting patrols. Alliance and Imperial commanders had agreed that while cessation of hostilities negotiations were being conducted, it would be wiser to refrain their respective squadrons of fighters from mixing. Better that any confrontations were reserved for the official functions scheduled to take place on Bothawui's surface, assuming the negotiations were successfully concluded. And if the first session was anything to go by, Leia thought, things would be wrapped within a matter of days.

General Dodonna was now summarising the day's proceedings, intoning banal pleasantries towards the Imperial senior officers seated around the table and discussing plans for the small formal dinner that was scheduled for that night.

The princess glanced impatiently at her wrist chrono. Han was due back within the hour, having been absent from the Task Force for the last ten days as he led his squadrons in an operation to rout pirates from a neighbouring system. Leia had tried to absorb herself in her duties while he was gone, but had felt _unsettled_ the entire time. It was difficult to believe he had only been away for one Standard week, but she had felt every minute of those ten days.

When Han had initially told her about his mission, her blood had run ice cold. The hollow in her chest had been subsumed by an ache as she had watched the _Millennium Falcon_ pull out of the hangar bay and take lead position in front of the three squadrons under General Solo's command.

Leia knew Han was all right; he was safe and well, despite the losses that his squadrons had sustained. The regular reports and updates on their sorties in the Roon system had helped to allay her fears. She supposed that one of Han's squadron leaders was filing the reports, knowing all too well the Solo attitude towards datawork and orders. But although she had proof that Han was alive, she had still been unable to shake her unsettled mood. The princess suspected she would not be able relax until the _Falcon_ was safely back inside the hangar bay and she was in her lover's arms.

With her focus still on Han, Leia observed the mismatched flotilla of friend and foe from the Corellian's point of view. She knew for certain that Solo would have a fit when he saw the proximity of the Imperial vessels to the Task Force elements. And when he discovered that Alliance vessels had been sitting there for the last 10 hours with all shields down, the fit would degenerate into paroxysms.

Leia tried not to fidget in her seat as she twisted the chrono around her wrist.

 _Ten days,_ Leia reminded herself. _It's only been ten days._

It may as well have been ten months. This was the first time since Han had been freed from the carbonite and rescued from Jabba's palace—over 120 days—that they had been separated from each other for longer than the duration of a ten-hour shift. With the way she was behaving, the 'old' Leia would have seriously questioned her mental stability. It was ridiculous that she had become so absorbed in Solo that the only way she could sleep without having him spooned around her was to wear one of his shirts. _That damned Corellian._ And yet she had also become addicted to the same ridiculous adrenalin that rushed through her whenever she thought about Han.

Leia had effectively been on her own throughout the duration of Solo's absence. Luke had departed for a well-earned sabbatical on Dagobah. Lando had returned to Bespin with Rogue Squadron in an effort to overthrow the Imperial garrison that had been stationed there for over a year. Even Chewbacca had departed the fleet, returning home to Kashyyyk for a long awaited reunion with his family some two months ago. At least if Chewie had been here, it would have provided Leia with a palpable reminder of Han.

If only Dodonna would stop his incessant droning, Leia thought, she might have time to jump into the refresher and change from her formal robes into something more alluring before Han returned. And then… well, then she and Han would have their own reunion to attend to. Their own mating rituals to initiate.

Trying not to allow these Solo-induced fantasies to distract her, Leia's gaze moved across the Imperial officers. All impeccably dressed in their stiff collared steel-grey uniforms, they appeared to be reasonable, rational human beings, and not altogether different from the Alliance officers seated on the same side of the table as herself. Well-spoken and more than willing to negotiate, the Imperials had displayed considerable concern for the welfare of their troops throughout the discussions.

In spite of this, Leia still wasn't comfortable in their presence. The war against the Empire had left an indelible impression on her that perhaps only time could resolve. And not for the first time that day, the princess wondered what in the stars could compel men such as these to follow a regime founded on hatred and destruction.

 _And women,_ the princess added as her eyes fell on the attractive female seated across the table from her. Leia had been surprised to discover that the executive officer of one of the Star Destroyers—Commander Saxel—was indeed a woman. In order to for her attain the rank of commander and be appointed as ship's XO, Leia knew that Saxel would have to be an extremely competent operator. Even for her to successfully graduate from the Academy would have been a feat on its own. As a former senator in the Imperial Senate, the princess knew only too well how the Empire had developed misogyny into a fine art. Under a different set of circumstances, she might have admired Commander Saxel. But for now, a healthy level of disdain coloured her view.

Dodonna's voice finally penetrated Leia's thoughts, perhaps he was doing what Leia had been impatiently waiting for him to do: he was wrapping up.

"And with that, gentles, may I invite you to re-convene here at 1700 hours, and we can settle down to other more pleasant business."

Leia was on her feet even before a polite murmur of laughter emerged from the gathering. She bade a quick farewell to the colleagues on either side of her and moved towards the main door as discretely and quickly as she could.

"Princess Organa!"

Leia hesitated at Commander Saxel's call. They had only briefly spoken during the session, a cool greeting and the clarification of a few points that had required the Organa subtle touch. But Leia had had a feeling since the beginning of the meeting that the commander wanted to discuss something else with her. The princess hoped this wouldn't take long as she wanted to spend as much time alone with Han before she was forced to attend the formal dinner.

Repressing a sigh with her usual diplomatic aplomb, Leia turned on her heel and faced the commander. Saxel strode confidently around the conference table, moving past the milling crowd of Alliance and Imperial officers. Lithe and athletic-looking, Saxel stood taller than Leia, and only slightly shorter than Han she noted. Her blond hair was cut short, yet not in a severe style that Leia would have expected from a female Imperial officer. As the woman drew nearer, Leia noticed a trace of faded freckles across the Imperial commander's nose and cheeks, making her appear younger than her age, which Leia had guessed at mid- to late 30s.

Saxel stopped in front of Leia and smiled at her apologetically. It was a quick smile and one that lit her face with hope.

"Princess Organa," the commander began, "may I have a moment of your time?"

Leia's smile was tight and blatantly forced in reply. She resisted the urge to check her chrono again.

"Of course."

It was apparent to the princess that Commander Saxel was not oblivious to her focus being elsewhere.

"I'm hoping you may be able to help me. Or point me in the direction of someone who may," the commander explained.

As she had no intention of making this easy for the Imperial, Leia did not respond or encourage the other woman to continue.

"I'm trying to locate a friend," Saxel quickly clarified. "An old friend. Someone who used to be in the Imperial Navy, but I understand that he may now be an officer in your forces."

 _Old friend,_ Leia sneered inwardly. _Try 'lover' instead._ But at least this had attracted her attention. _So, you want to see if those sparks still fly, Commander? Or do you just wish to ingratiate yourself with the Alliance? After a quick transfer, at level of course, to the winners' side?_

"I'm sure you're aware that many former Imperials are now part of the Alliance, Commander Saxel," Leia explained, allowing a condescension to colour her tone.

"I've heard rumours that he may be a general," Saxel added, as if this somehow helped to justify her request.

Leia's immediate thought was: _I bet it's Madine!_ But somehow the Commander didn't seem to be Crix Madine's type. She was too confident and polished. Plus, Leia quickly recalled, the blond Corellian general had been in command of an elite Special Forces element, not a member of the Imperial Navy. But if it _was_ Madine that Saxel was talking about, there was no way Leia was going out of her way to assist with this reunion. Madine was definitely no friend of hers and his attitude towards Han frequently bordered on outright vehemence.

"Commander," Leia began, "I am uncertain if I can be of assistance. The Alliance is comprised of many Task Force elements, many generals and officers of all ranks. Relatively speaking, I know only a handful of people."

The other woman's eyes narrowed and Leia heard the coldness in her own voice. _You've got that 'bitch attitude' nicely sorted out there, Princess,_ she could hear Han telling her.

Leia briefly considered if she should be more accommodating, but the Imperial uniform made it difficult to persuade her otherwise.

"Perhaps I could put you in touch with our Workforce Resources Division," Leia offered. "You may be able to track your friend down that way."

Saxel's eyes dropped and her lips twitched. "Of course."

The commander hid her disappointment with such practised skill that Leia almost considered apologising for being so abrupt. But not quite.

The princess intoned, "If you'll excuse me."

Leia had already half-turned away before the commander added, "Thank you for your time."

All heads in the conference room suddenly snapped around as the distinctive shape of a Corellian YT-1300 freighter arched over the cruiser's hull and rushed past the viewport, the blast from its ion engines causing the transparisteel to shudder in its frame. The stocky ship barrel rolled into a split-S manoeuvre and doubled back towards the conference room, waggling its bow mandibles from side to side, the forward running lights aimed as effectively as the quad cannons mounted on the upper and lower hull.

"Pirates!" an Imperial captain yelled as he leaned against the viewport to gain a better look. The battered freighter certainly had all the hallmarks of a pirate ship. There was no discernible name or registration details, mismatched plating, and extensive carbon scoring from laser fire. And from the look of the formidable firepower she appeared to be carrying, it was not a moment too soon that three squadrons of X-Wing snub fighters appeared to chase her off the cruiser's hull.

"Solo," Dodonna growled through clenched teeth. The elder general's eyes blazed with fury, no doubt concerned with the surrender negotiations being disrupted. As it was, Leia was already imagining that warning klaxons were currently sounding throughout the Imperial fleet at the moment, and no doubt there were many hasty reassurances being communicated from the _Azure Blue's_ bridge to allay the concerns of the Imperial.

Dodonna deliberately sought out the princess to see her response. Although counselling herself that she needed to be more circumspect, Leia gave a slight smile in reply to Dodonna's glare. The Alliance High Command already believed that Solo adversely influenced her behaviour, and Leia was aware that questions had raised about whether she should have been accepted back into the upper echelons of the Alliance following the unexpected leave of absence she had taken to secure Han's release. Following the Alliance's overwhelming victory at Endor, the High Command had been forced to acknowledge that they needed leaders such as Leia who were skilled at diplomatic negotiations and schooled in the etiquette of politics. Despite the knowledge that she and Solo had established an intimate relationship, Leia had been accepted back into the clique of the High Command. Leia was, however, just waiting for the moment when a member of the High Command decided to have a quiet word with her about having an affair with a former Corellian smuggler. She wasn't quite sure if she'd be able to refrain from swinging a punch.

"My apologies, gentles," Dodonna explained to the concerned Imperials. "We have an erstwhile smuggler in our midst who's obviously pleased to be home." He caught Leia's eye and aimed his next remark at her. "And if he's not careful, he may be an erstwhile general before too long."

The Imperial officers were not entirely convinced, and they anxiously watched as the _Millennium Falcon_ led the 30-odd X-Wing fighters into the cruiser's docking bay.

Reigning in the childish urge to poke out her tongue, Leia smiled pleasantly and inclined her head towards Dodonna in deference. But she knew Dodonna had every right to be angry with Solo. It had been reckless of Han to buzz the Calamari cruiser, particularly in an unidentified ship with five, potentially twitchy Imperial vessels in close proximity. Unfortunately, that was Han. She would have as much luck in changing his behaviour, as Dodonna would have at making a short speech. _And if you hadn't kept droning on for so long,_ Leia thought, _I could've been changed by now. As it is, well…now I'll just have to share a shower with Han!_

"General Solo?"

Frowning, Leia turned towards Commander Saxel, caught off guard at her questioning tenor.

The commander's cheeks were bright with expectation. "That freighter?" She nodded out the viewport towards the empty space where the _Falcon_ had just been. "Is the pilot General Solo?"

The hair on the back of Leia's head raised, and she studied the elder women with morbid fascination, as if watching a collision in slow motion.

"Han Solo?" Commander Saxel continued. "Corellian? Early 30s. Brown hair, hazel eyes. About 1.85 metres tall?"

Leia nodded woodenly as something twisted in her stomach. Saxel knew Han's exact height, to the centimetre. Exactly.

The commander smiled at Leia smugly. "You can stop looking, Princess. I think I've just found my friend."


	2. Chapter 2

Old Friends Long Gone  
by CorellianBlue

 **II**

"Stand fast!"

As General Han Solo strode down the centre aisle of the briefing theatre with his three squadron leaders matching him stride for stride, the pilots of his squadrons rose in weary unison. Other generals may have preferred their juniors to walk behind them, but Solo had no concerns that Capra, Spiel and Sacul kept pace with him. The squadron leaders— all holding the rank of major—were exceptional pilots who knew how to keep a strong rein on their squadrons, as well as ensure their wing commander did not get himself into too much trouble. As far as Solo was concerned, the three humans were his equals in all but rank, and as he didn't place much credence in military status he was more than happy to have the majors at his side. Over the last ten days all three squadron leaders had proven themselves worthy of the positions they held as their squadrons had performed remarkably well, particularly considering that for some of their pilots it was the first time they had experienced under enemy fire.

 _Enemy fire,_ he thought darkly. From the proximity of those Navy ships, it would certainly be more than 'fire' if the Imperials took it into their heads to pre-empt the outcome of the surrender negotiations. It would be more like a supernova. Solo couldn't believe the commanders of the Alliance Task Force had been stupid enough to get cosy with the Imps, and then leave their shields down.

But there was no point in worrying about that as there most likely nothing Solo could do to convince Dodonna otherwise. Han's main concern now was finalising the mission with his pilots, then spending the next twenty hours in bed with Leia.

Solo did not usually wear an Alliance uniform, however for the past mission he had conceded in an effort to instil solidarity amongst his pilots and to provide a cohesive focus for them. He based his speculation on that premise that if the guys behind could see that the one driving the bus was dressed the same as them, then they may be more inclined to follow.

Solo unfastened the front of the flight jacket, tugged open the throat of the dark blue flight suit as he headed towards the front of the theatre. He shook his head uncomfortably at the level of respect these weary young men and women gave him. He did not deserve their reverence. He was just a guy doing his job.

"Sit, sit!" he ordered as he moved down the rows of pilots. "Take it easy."

"At ease!" Capra's strident voice broke the relative quiet and went straight into Solo's ear. Solo cringed at the woman on his shoulder. She caught the pained expression of his face and hastily added, "Sorry, General."

"Obviously a drill sergeant in a former life, Cap?" he asked with a rueful shake of his head. "Remind me never to let you give Leia any shouting lessons. Not even if she begs for 'em."

The young Corellian woman smirked. "Yes, General."

It did not take much to convince the pilots to resume their seats. Many almost collapsed back onto the hard chairs, pushing hands through sweat-slicked hair, but their haggard faces hardly relaxing.

Capra, Spiel and Sacul assumed their seats in the vacant front row. Solo stopped next to the imposing lectern, pivoted on the toe of his boot and turned to face his pilots.

"Okay, I'll make this quick," he began, noting the immediate sense of relief this caused.

He had no intention of keeping a bunch of exhausted pilots any longer than was necessary, despite the fact regulations dictated that complete intelligence de-briefings and a lengthy wash-up should now occur. They may only have been absent for ten days, but it had been a harrowing, stressful ten days. There was no way these kids could concentrate for anything longer than another few minutes.

"You all look like you need a good meal, a hot shower and about twenty hours sleep."

Solo refrained a grin at a personal thought; sleep was _not_ part of the equation that included Leia, himself, her bed and twenty hours.

"Are you our mother now, sir?" Spiel quipped from his seat.

"Someone's gotta keep an eye out for you lunatics," Solo replied.

He hitched himself up onto the desk that stood next to the lectern, and waited for the chuckling to die down. Rubbing a hand across the week's growth of beard on his jaw, he allowed his mood to take on a more serious tone.

"It's been a long, hard mission," the Corellian general told them, his gaze travelling over individual faces of the pilots. "We had some lucky escapes, and some outstanding successes."

His gaze lingered on the four pilots who had crewed on the _Falcon_ with him: two gunners, a co-pilot and navigator/comms officer. For an inexperienced crew, they had performed remarkably well.

"And, unfortunately, we lost six good people. Six good friends."

 _Five from one squadron alone,_ he reminded himself. He hoped Sacul's troops could get over losing nearly half their strength. He sought out the remaining seven pilots from Number 42 Squadron. All but the mature Bothan pilot kept their eyes averted.

"But let's remind ourselves that we sent those pirates running, freed up Roon's subspace routes again, and saved countless lives in the process."

A solemnity settled over the group. Now was not the time to harp on their mistakes. With the benefit of hindsight and some solid sleep, they would be more receptive to his words, to the lessons they needed to learn, and perhaps even willing to offer their own opinions as to what had gone wrong and how things could be improved so that next time losses could be minimised. Still, Solo considered, it couldn't hurt to give them something to mull over until they re-convened.

"There's some things we need to go back over in training," the Corellian explained. "A few basic spacer skills we let slip there. One of those is, 'Wingmen: you gotta stick with the boss. No matter what.'"

A few of the younger pilots stared into their laps, but there were mutters of agreement from the more experienced flyers. Out of curiosity, Sacul turned in his seat to see who had spoken.

"In the meantime," Solo continued, "I think you all deserve a few days off. In fact, I'm going to stand you down for the next three shift rotations." He didn't notice the pilots' sighs of gratitude because a thought suddenly occurred to him and he pointed his index finger at the female major. "Cap, can I do that?"

Capra smiled and shrugged at him. "You're the general, General."

Solo nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You're right." He turned his attention back to the pilots. "Okay, I don't want to see you guys near the ready room for another three shift rotations. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they barked out.

Solo kept his grin to himself. He knew from personal experience that if their enthusiasm for time off was any indication, his squadrons would recover from this mission.

"Do I have to ask if there's any questions? No? All right then, you're free to go."

Capra raised the squadrons to their feet with a clipped, "A-ten-tion!"

There was a shuffling of boots as the pilots stood upright again. The general nodded in recognition of the salute and Capra dismissed them. The pilots grabbed their kit bags and quickly filtered from the room. Solo pushed himself off the desk and strode across to where his three squadron leaders were now milling in front of their seats.

"You better be right about this, Cap," Solo warned the young major and he folded his arms across his chest.

Capra frowned and opened her mouth in protest. "Sir, I didn't agree that you could stand down the squadrons for—"

"I mean about me being a general," Solo elaborated. He shook his head in a slightly bewildered gesture. "There's gotta be a mix up here."

Spiel and Sacul caught onto the jest before Capra did and they chuckled, both at Solo's remark and at Capra's expense.

"Maybe they forgot to collect the uniform off you after Endor?" Spiel suggested with a grin.

At the quip, Solo's face became impassive drawing the humour came to an abrupt end as it appeared the majors may have stumbled upon the limit to the Corellian general's self-deprecation.

Solo's gaze was serious. "I do the jokes, okay, Spiel?"

Spiel swallowed nervously. "Y-yes, sir."

The general pointed a finger at him. "You're the straight man. And yet that's the second time today you tried to crack a joke. Sloppy, Spiel. Very sloppy."

Spiel's eyes betrayed his confusion, but he responded in the only way he knew was appropriate. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Now it was Capra's turn to laugh at Spiel's expense as she had quickly picked up on the teasing glimmer in Solo's eyes. The younger women's delight was infectious, and Solo could not curb a grin. Still, he continued to point a lecturing finger at the bewildered Spiel.

"Now let's get this right. You're the straight man. Cap's the drill sergeant. Sacul's the sensitive soul. And I do the jokes."

"And why do you get to do the jokes?" Cap glowered playfully, settling into the rhythm of this banter.

Solo raised an eyebrow, as if it was blatantly obvious and yet still he had to explain. "Because I'm the one with the clown outfit, remember?"


	3. Chapter 3

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **III**

As Leia watched General Solo instruct his pilots, a warm sense of love and pride spread through. She had entered the briefing theatre through a front entrance and had remained unobserved near the hatchway, content to allow him to complete his duties without interference from her. Not for the first time, the princess marvelled at Han's natural rapport with his pilots, particularly the way he commanded their respect and attention when they were obviously exhausted. And in typical Solo fashion, he used humour to lighten the situation when it was called for. She wasn't too sure he was authorised to stand his squadrons down for three shift rotations without reference to higher authorities, but the gesture had been genuinely compassionate and heartfelt.

Now, as the pilots departed the briefing theatre, Leia gave Han a few moments to confer with his squadron leaders. Her smile grew as Solo made some remark that had his majors chuckling. There was another brief exchange between them that ended with more laughter and Solo affectionately clutching the shoulder of one of the majors. Deciding she had waited long enough, Leia started towards her lover.

Solo noticed movement out the corner of his eye and looked up and across towards the other side of the theatre. A brilliant smile lit his face as soon as he saw the princess, a smile that melted her insides and extinguished the anxiety that had been nestled inside her.

The squadron leaders noticed their general's distraction and turned in the direction he was staring.

Solo's gaze remained fixed on the princess, but he murmured out the corner of his mouth, "Didn't I tell you the Alliance appreciated our efforts. They've even sent a royal delegation to welcome us back."

"To welcome one of us back, anyway," Sacul whispered under his breath, receiving an elbow in the ribs from Capra for his comment.

As he was focussed solely on the princess, Solo didn't hear the remark. "I'll catch you guys later," he told them dismissively. "Much later." Then he moved to meet Leia.

Capra hustled her colleagues into leaving the theatre to allow the couple some privacy. The men put up dumb resistance to begin with, complaining that they didn't know why they had leave so quickly, but Capra's persistent was enough to ensure that the squadron leaders were halfway down the centre aisle by the time the general had swept his princess into a loving embrace.

Leia pressed her face against Solo's chest and held onto him as his arms encircled her back and shoulders. A sigh escaped her lips and she exhaled the tension from her body, then breathed in his scent, filling herself with his very essence.

"Gods, I missed you," she murmured, melding her body along the length of his.

"Love you," was his husky response. He pulled her head up and leaned his own down, brushed his cheek against hers, the stubble of his beard rough against her jaw. "Love you," he whispered into her ear. "Missed you. Need you. _Want_ you." He tugged her harder against his body so there was no doubt exactly how much he wanted her.

His mouth sought hers out and they kissed, desperately, ardently, as if they were about to be separated and not had just been reunited. When they eventually parted, Han rested his forehead against hers, only marginally loosening his hold on her. She stared into his sparkling eyes and smiled, the rasp of his beard still tingling across her mouth.

"Hi," he said simply. "Did I mention I love you?"

Leia chuckled fondly. "Once or twice."

"Just making sure. It's been a while since I told you."

She snuggled her head against his shoulder. "An eternity."

He dropped his arms down around her waist and kissed her forehead. "Ten days, four hours and some odd minutes."

"Some very odd minutes," she agreed. "Solo, you're a helpless romantic. You know that?"

"Only when it comes to you, sweetheart." He smoothed his lips across her temple again and asked, "What's wrong, Princess?"

Leia smiled into his shoulder. Despite her best efforts to ignore her discomfort, the traces must have been perceptible enough for Solo to detect.

"Nothing's wrong." He squeezed her gently in rebuke, and she elaborated. "Everything's fine now that you're back."

"You sure?"

She straightened up and pulled away from him slightly so that she could squarely look at him. "It's just…I've missed you terribly. And I don't like missing you." It reminded her too much of the dismal year when he had been frozen in carbonite.

Han smirked and playfully remarked, "You missed me _terribly_?"

Leia gently pushed at him for making fun of her. She knew ten days was no match for ten months, but he didn't have to highlight this difference.

"Or at least I thought I had missed you," Leia began. "Now you're back, I'm not so sure."

His easy laughter drew a rueful grin to her lips. "Maybe I should just stay away and you can continue missing me? That way you could love the idea of me without having to endure the reality."

"Don't tempt me," she warned.

Solo's eyes widened and he wagged a finger in front of her face. "That's what you say now," he chided, "but I guarantee that once you get me in your bed, you'll be _begging_ me to stay."

Leia tried valiantly not to smile. "Begging? You think I'll be begging you to stay?"

Solo pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. "Grovelling. Genuflecting."

"Now you're trying to impress me with your vocabulary," she pointed out.

"That's not all you're gonna be impressed with, sweetheart."

Leia shrieked as he grabbed her firmly on the behind and lifted her hips to his. Looking around furtively, she stepped back out of his grasp.

"Han! Someone may be watching."

"Let 'em watch," he told her flippantly, then cast a prudent, cursory glance around the empty briefing theatre.

He reached for her again but, with a girlish giggle, she pulled further away from his roving hands.

"Playing hard to get, Princess?" A knowing look gleamed in his eyes. "You want me to chase you around the ship, do you? Like I did that other time?"

Leia's knees weakened at the memory of Solo relentlessly pursuing her around the cruiser after they'd had a minor disagreement, about exactly what she couldn't recall now. Things had started off rather tamely, with her refusing to talk to him on the comlink and walking away from him when he had sought her out at her workstation. However, she had found it difficult to ignore him in the meeting they both attended, especially when he kept staring at her, all the while covertly running his tongue across his lips. By the end of the meeting, she was aroused instead of angry, but she had not wanted to give in. They had then played a game of 'felinoid and vrelt' around the ship, Solo relentlessly pursuing the princess until he pounced on her in an empty corridor and convinced her to accompany him into a nearby storage locker so they could continue their disagreement in private. Unfortunately, now she had neither the time nor the energy to encourage him in this direction.

Leia relented and cautiously took his hand. Hoping that she could make him more manageable if she took the initiative, she suggested, "Come on then. Back to my suite so you can impress me."

With a brilliant grin across his face, Solo allowed the princess to lead him from the theatre. "Impress. Depress. Unpress. Express. Any way you want it, beautiful, I'll do it."

"Ah, sweetheart, I don't think 'unpress' is a real word," she noted.

Han shrugged congenially. "I'm Corellian. What do I know about talkin' proper Basic?"

The ship's crew paid little attention to the princess and the general as they walked hand-in-hand to her quarters. The relationship between the princess and the ex-smuggler was old news, no longer the scandal it had once been, nor worthy of open stares and gossip. It was also rather common for the couple to hold hands while traversing the decks of the cruiser, despite being neither regally or militarily correct, but it seemed it was another idiosyncrasy that characterised this strange relationship.

"How are things going with the Imps?" Solo asked once the crowd had departed from the turbolift car they were travelling in.

Leia laid the heel of her hand against his chest and adjusted the collar of his flight suit. "They were very impressed by your entrance." Solo made a self-satisfied half-laugh, and she continued, "They nearly leapt out of their skins. They thought you were a pirate."

"Don't they know I only play 'dress up' for you now?" he asked wickedly. His voice lowered to a sensuous rumble. "How does that fantasy of yours go again? Me, naked, except for my boots and gun-rig."

" _Your_ fantasy," she corrected. "In mine, you lose the boots and blaster as well."

"I like a woman who knows what she wants." He grinned, but quickly returned to their original conversation. "What did Dodonna think?"

Leia's eyes narrowed. "Dodonna's not in my fantasy. How did he get into yours?"

Solo slipped his hands loosely around her throat and pretended to throttle her. She responded just as melodramatically by rolling her eyes back and gagging on her tongue. He quickly gave in and ended up stroking her cheek fondly. Leia regained her composure and slid her arms around his waist.

"Old Dodders was not very happy with you, I'm afraid, General," she told him. "You've received another black mark against your name."

Han raised his shoulders in a self-effacing gesture. "I aim to please, Princess."

The turbolift stopped at the senior officers' accommodation level. As Solo preferred to maintain his cabin on board the _Falcon_ , he had not been allocated a room. In reality, however, he effectively lived in Leia's suite, which was the arrangement he and Leia preferred anyway.

The corridor was relatively empty and Solo casually slung his arm around Leia's shoulders as they moved toward her suite.

"So," he drawled into her ear, "you finished for the day?"

"There's a formal dinner at 1700," Leia explained. "That means we've got about an hour."

Solo nodded thoughtfully. "That's fine with me. I won't need long."

Leia prodded him in the stomach. "You may not, Flyboy, but _I_ will!"

"A _demanding_ woman who knows what she wants," Han whined. "What have I gotten myself into?"

The princess ignored his comment and added quietly, "You've been invited to the dinner as well."

Solo frowned. "Me? Why me? Dodders would never invite me to dine with the High-and-Mighty unless he wants to get at me."

She met his questioning gaze. "I arranged the invitation for you. Don't look at me like that," she added when he pulled a sour face. His reaction made it easier for her to continue her explanation. "You've got a friend amongst the ranks of the Imperials."

"Friend?" Han visibly swallowed. "I don't have any friends."

"I would've said that, too," Leia joked, trying to lighten the mood. "But that's what she described you as. A friend."

Something stuck in Solo's throat. "S-she?"

The waiver in his voice cramped a knot into Leia's chest and she suddenly found it difficult to look at him.

"The XO of one of their ships is a woman, a commander" she told him. "I believe her name is Ascher Saxel."

A nauseous look crossed Solo's face. "Oh."

They had reached the hatch to the princess' suite and Leia keyed in the access code, grateful that she could momentarily keep her eyes from his as she tried to ask casually, "Do you know her?"

The hatch slid open but the couple remained on the threshold. When he didn't respond, Leia turned towards him expectantly, her eyes demanding nothing short of the truth from him.

Han's shrug was almost apologetic. "Umm…yeah. Kinda."

For a moment, Leia was lost at what to do next. _'Kinda'_? What the hell did that mean?

Then Han quickly ushered her through the hatchway and told her brightly as he closed the hatch behind them, "I've been looking forward to this since before I left, and even minute since."

His unexpected change in mood caught her off-guard and she asked, "Looking forward to what?"

Solo swept her into his embrace. "My homecoming."

Leia smiled at his sentimental remark, his open admission that he was committed to her. If he thought of this as his home, then he must think of her as…

Any concerns Leia had about Ascher Saxel were quickly shelved.

"Are you up for a 'fresher?" the princess asked, her eyes sultry with promise as she tugged open the front of his flying suit.

Han smiled and winked at her. "You know I'm always up for a 'fresher with you, sweetheart." His hands moved over her possessively. "And if I'm not up now, I soon will be."


	4. Chapter 4

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **IV**

Despite their best intentions to share a 'fresher, Han and Leia failed to make it that far. Helping each other to undress proved to their undoing. The love they made was quick, hard and passionate—a torrential downpour to drench the short-lived drought. Han apologised for not taking his time or being gentler, but Leia assured him she would not have wanted it any different, her hunger and desire had been just as consuming as his.

As they had a dinner to attend in less than 40 minutes, Leia knew she could not afford the luxury of relaxing back in Han's arms. Tousling his hair, she kissed him on the cheek, reluctantly left their bed and headed into the refresher ensuite. Standing inside the cubicle, she allowed the sonic waves to gently cleanse and buffet her, while her mind jittered over exactly what would happen at the dinner. Or more precisely, what would happen between Han and the Imperial commander.

The sonic cycle came to an end and Leia stepped out of the cubicle. She slipped her arms into a lightweight robe and spent the next fifteen minutes rolling her hair into an elegant style and applying make-up to her face. Finished with her efforts, she tried a smile, then rubbed the blemish of lip liner from her front teeth. Only then did it occur to her that Han had not stirred from their bed.

Suspecting that he may have fallen asleep, Leia moved back out into the sleeping area. Han was in exactly the same position that she had left him: lying flat on his stomach, his head turned towards her and just failing to rest on the pillows. She was surprised to see that his eyes were open, and he watched her as she strolled past the bed and towards the closet. She glanced at him as she selected a dark blue dress—the only outfit she had that was suitable for a formal dinner.

"Are you going to have a 'fresher," Leia asked impishly, "or go with the scent of me all over you?"

She didn't mention that he also needed to shave. There was no doubt the short beard made him appear more gorgeous, and she had enjoyed the roughness of the stubble across her skin, but it also made him appear scruffy and vaguely dangerous. _Gorgeously scruffy and dangerous,_ she smirked to herself.

"You'll need to get moving or we'll be late." Leia hoped her prompt didn't sound too much like she was nagging him. "Your dress uniform is still in the closet from last time."

Han rolled over, propped himself up on the pillows and softly asked, "Do you mind if I don't come?"

Leia was immediately delighted and disappointed by his request. As much as she wanted to appear on his arm at this dinner, she was even more pleased to hear that he was hesitant at meeting his 'friend'. She gave him an easy excuse for his non-attendance.

"Tired?" she asked considerately.

Han seemed receptive to her suggestion. "A bit."

The dark marks under his eyes indicated he was more tired than just 'a bit'.

He shrugged and added, "I'm not much in the mood to deal with stuffed shirts, Leia. Alliance or Imperial."

Leia understood how he felt as she was experiencing a similar reaction herself. However she was could not resist testing the extent of Solo's friendship with Ascher Saxel.

"What about your friend?"

Han was silent for a moment as he considered what he would do. "Your talks are still happening for a few more days, right? I'll catch up with her later."

Leia nodded and returned to her dress, holding it up to herself to see how it looked, as if she had a closet-full of gowns to choose from.

"Besides," Solo added quietly, "you wouldn't want me embarrassing you."

Leia swung around to face him again. She held his gaze and solemnly told him, "You never embarrass me, Han."

Solo grimaced. "You know what I mean. People talk, muck-rack. Plus I'm liable to say something that's not politically correct, or I'll deck an Imperial and end up in the brig."

"Perhaps," Leia conceded with a sad smile. "But never believe that you _ever_ embarrass me, Han Solo. I'm always proud to be with y—"

"I love you," he interrupted, "you know that."

"Don't change the conversation," she advised shortly. "You never embarrass me, Han, all right?" He nodded reluctantly, and she sighed and added, "I love you, too. Nerfherder."

He rolled his eyes towards the upper bulkhead. "And now she insults me."

Leia unexpectedly tilted his head down and kissed him firmly on the mouth. She drew back from him and stared into his eyes.

"Will you be here when I get back?" she softly asked.

The side of his mouth lifted into a half-grin. "Who else would have me?"

"Isn't that true." She kissed him again. "I'll only stay for as long as necessary, just for the sake of appearances."

"Take your time," Han assured her. "I'll only be catching up on sleep."

"Don't forget to have something to eat."

"I won't."

Leia glanced at the bedside chrono. "I better get moving. I don't want to be late."

Solo watched Leia as she finished dressing, offering her both complimentary and suggestive remarks in a running commentary that wound down as the fatigue caught up with him. By the time Leia was ready to leave, his eyes were closed and his breathing had deepened.

The princess kissed his forehead, turned off the lights and departed for dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **V**

The princess managed to apologise for the absence of General Solo without drawing too much attention to it, or disclosing the extent of her relationship with him. She simply explained that General Solo had expressed his gratitude for the invitation, but he was unable to attend due to some pressing business he needed to resolve. From the look on Dodonna's face, it was apparent that he did not believe that Solo had actually said those words. But the elder general seemed pleased that the Corellian had not shown for dinner, and Leia was grateful that Han would not have to suffer more snide remarks from Dodonna.

As the princess had no interest in how much Han's absence affected Commander Saxel, Leia kept her eyes averted from the other woman's gaze as she explained he would not be attending. Leia also did not want Saxel guessing that she and Han were lovers, and she suspected that the elder woman might be able to easily read her.

The dinner was very civilised, the conversation lively and amusing. Leia may even have enjoyed herself if she hadn't spent the time speculating about how close Han had been with Saxel, and wondering if he would still be in her bed when she returned as he had promised.

With the formal sit-down meal concluded, the Imperial and Alliance officers adjourned to the anteroom to continue their discussions in more comfortable surrounds and to sip on fortified wines. Leia declined the small glass of torp that was offered to her by a serving droid and clasped her hands behind her back. She had positioned herself on the edge of the informal groupings, on the raised level adjacent to the transparisteel viewport, trying to find a way to leave as gracefully as possible without appearing overly anxious to depart.

Commander Saxel had not spoken to the princess throughout the dinner, but Leia had not taken the rebuff personally. If anything, it meant that Leia did not have to answer any private questions about Han that might reveal how close she and the Corellian general were.

As if cued into Leia's thinking, Commander Saxel attempted to make eye contact with the princess. Leia hurriedly averted her gaze out the viewport. Saxel seemed undeterred and joined the princess on the raised level. Leia knew she couldn't ignore the commander for long, and she ended up feigning surprise at seeing the other woman standing behind her shoulder, then turned to face her.

Leia formally acknowledged Saxel. "Commander."

Saxel's reply was equally official. "Princess." The commander glanced down at her hands, then met Leia's eyes again. "Thank you for going to the trouble of inviting General Solo to dinner."

Leia studied Saxel's face, trying to gauge her sincerity. "It was no trouble, Commander. You are his friend, after all."

Saxel nodded, perhaps a bit sadly. "I'm sorry he wasn't able to make it. I've been looking forward to seeing him. We didn't part under the best of circumstances."

 _I don't want to hear this,_ Leia thought desperately, wishing she could turn and leave, or at least block her ears with her hands.

"How long has it been since you last saw Han?" Leia found herself asking, not certain if she was genuinely interested or just making polite conversation.

Saxel's voice became wistful. "It's been over twelve years. Doesn't time go fast? I think Han must have been all of 21 years old when I last saw him."

Leia stomped on the resentment that reared up inside her and instead tried to focus on how insufferable a 21-year-old Han Solo would have been. An insufferable 21-year-old Imperial pilot, not how boyishly cute he must have looked back then.

Saxel continued, "That was just before he left the Navy."

Leia bristled. "You mean court martialled?" she pointedly asked.

Saxel abruptly stopped her reminiscing and tilted her head at the princess. "Han hasn't hidden his court martial then?"

"Why should he?" the princess asked.

Saxel gave her a wry smile. "It wasn't pretty, Your Highness."

Leia pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "From what I understand, Commander Saxel, court martials are never pretty."

Saxel seemed vaguely amused at Leia's response. "And I'd say it was lucky for you that he was court martialled."

 _You don't know the half of it,_ Leia thought, wondering how she could safely get out of this conversation, and the room, without it appearing as though Saxel had chased her away.

"May I ask you a personal question, Princess?" Saxel didn't give Leia time to respond and continued, "Is it commonly known throughout the Alliance that you're involved with Han?"

A cold anger seethed through Leia. She had suspected that Commander Saxel was testing her, prodding her to get a response, to determine whether she and Han were lovers.

Leia gave Saxel a stiff smile that hardly turned her lips. "It's known," Leia advised her, "just not officially acknowledged."

"So you are the right person to talk to," Saxel added eagerly. Leia frowned and Saxel explained, "I've got twelve years to catch up on. Can you enlighten me as to what's happened to Han in that time?"

Leia tried not to revel in the sense of power that she now felt. That would have been beneath her, far too common and vulgar. "Perhaps you should ask Han."

The commander's open and amiable demeanour suddenly closed as she folded her arms across her chest. "Perhaps I should."

Leia assumed her best political face, her most polite smile. She hadn't liked this female commander to begin with, and she took some satisfaction in knowing that her instinctive dislike of the woman had been vindicated. Now all she wanted to know was exactly what sort of a relationship Han had had with Saxel, and then ensure that she did everything possible to ensure they never met again.

"If you'll excuse me, Commander."

Saxel bowed her head in deference. "Of course, Your Highness."

Leia would not suffer this occasion or this woman any longer. She had already been separated from Han for far too long as it was. Another minute, and she was certain she would surely scream.

Not giving Commander Saxel a second glance, Leia quickly moved down the short steps to the rest of the dinner guests, bade goodnight to her colleagues and the other Imperial officers, and left the anteroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **VI**

The journey back to her suite seemed to take forever, and it didn't help that the ship and its crew appeared to be conspiring to unduly delay the princess. The corridors she took seemed unusually busy with sentients and droids, and one of the turbolifts was unserviceable due to technical problems.

Upon reaching the door to her cabin, Leia sighed in relief, and took a few moments to compose herself and to push aside her encounter with Commander Saxel. She keyed in the access code, setting the hatch to open just far enough for her to sneak through without letting in too much ambient light from the corridor, and manually over-rode the sensor that would activate the lights when she entered. Despite her precautions and light footsteps, Solo briefly stirred as she entered the cabin. He was a light sleeper, a trait Leia assumed was ingrained from his time as a smuggler and the constant need for vigilance.

Leia _sshhed_ the sleepy call of her name and reassured him she wouldn't be long. She kept the door to the 'fresher closed and she undressed, removed her make-up and loosely plaited her hair into a single braid. Naked, she hurried back to her bed, slipped under the covers and snuggled into Han backwards. Solo rolled onto his side, draped an arm around her waist and pulled her into the curve of his body. He rested his freshly shaved jaw on her shoulder, kissed her cheek and made a satisfied noise deep in his throat.

"Missed you," he mumbled.

Silently echoing his confession, Leia allowed herself the luxury of enjoying the warmth of his body spooned around hers. From the first moment on that fateful trip to Bespin, she had always felt loved when he enfolded her in his arms. It make her feel safe, at peace. But beneath those feelings of security, her unease lingered.

Leia laid her palm across the top of his hand that as he stroked the smooth skin of her stomach.

"You were asleep," she gently chided. "How could you miss me?"

Now most definitely awake, Solo caressed the curve of her hip.

"You're always in my dreams, Princess."

Leia shivered at the touch of his lips on the nape of her neck. She rested her own hand on his hip, encouraging him to move closer to her. The contact of his skin against hers allowed her to discern the different textures of his body: the fine hair on his chest and legs; the bones of his knees, hips and ribs; the muscles of his upper thighs. The touch of him invariably led to her arousal and although Leia wished she could follow her basic instincts, her mind refused to settle.

"Did you have something to eat?" she asked innocently.

He replied as he nuzzled on her neck, "Mm-hmm. But I'm glad I saved room for dessert."

"Our dinner was very nice," she mentioned, noticing his slight hesitation—a moment when his lips left her skin—before he continued kissing a path up her neck. "Your friend was disappointed you weren't there."

Now he did stop. Han rolled his chest away from her back and shoulders, and Leia immediately noticed the temperature difference from the loss of his warmth.

His sigh held a sense of resignation. "Go on," he told her softly. "Ask me."

Leia was grateful that the darkness hid the guilt that flushed her cheeks, but she remained coy. "Ask you what?"

She actually heard the muscles in his jaw tighten. "What do you want to know, Leia?"

The princess turned in his arms and pulled away from him as he removed his hands from her body. The bedside chrono cast a pale blue light across the couple, but Han's eyes were dark with shadows and unreadable.

"When did you last see Ascher Saxel?" Leia asked.

Solo looked off to one side, shook his head to himself, then turned back to her. "About twelve years ago. The day I got court martialled." There was a touch of exasperation in his tone. "Ascher put in a plea of mitigation on my behalf."

 _Thank the gods._ Han's recollection matched Saxel's. Then Leia thought back over exactly what he had said. Saxel could only have placed an appeal on his behalf if she had been his superior.

"And why did she put in a plea of mitigation for you?"

Han exhaled heavily before replying, "She used to be my boss. She was the flight leader in the first squadron I was posted to."

Leia was tempted to turn on the lights so that she could look into his eyes, but she suspected it would be easier for both of them if they could continue discussing this in the relative darkness.

The pulse thumped in Leia's throat as she asked, "Were you lovers?"

She heard his mouth open a few times before he replied, "There was never any love involved. We were just friends who went one step further."

 _Like us,_ Leia immediately thought, recalling how her friendship with Han had rapidly developed into something much more during their escape to Bespin. Then she tempered her original notion. _Not like us. We love each other. We always have._

Leia frowned, her thinking now confused. "You weren't lovers?"

Han shook his head. "We weren't _in_ love. We just screwed around."

Leia was very aware of Solo's previous reputation for having casual affairs. It was a concept that was distinctly alien to her.

"But she knows _exactly_ how tall you are," Leia pressed. Surely that was an intimate fact you would only remember about someone you loved.

The sound of his laughter was unexpected.

"You're jealous," Han accused.

Leia was momentarily flustered. "I am not."

Solo nudged gently at her shoulder, his teeth gleaming in the chrono's blue glow. "Yeah. You are."

She pushed him back. "No. I'm not."

"Well, what did you and Asch talk about over dinner?" he asked, the grin now evident in his voice.

Leia attempted to ignore the familiar name he used for Saxel. Asch, not Ascher. "We…we didn't speak much."

"You ignored her." Han nodded his head knowingly. "You must _really_ be jealous."

"I am not jealous." Leia pushed his shoulder again and he chuckled louder. The only argument she could come up with in her defence sounded shallow and weak. "So how come Ascher knows and remembers _exactly_ how tall you are, Han?"

His humour quickly calmed, and he brushed a hand across her cheek and up into her hair. "Asch is a top rate officer and she was a great boss. She knew everything about the pilots who reported to her. Our height, weight, eye colour, boot size, service number. I was her ensign for nearly a year, so I'm not surprised she'd remember something like that about me."

Leia's night vision had improved and she was clearly able to make out Han's features as she stared at him, trying to unravel what she felt about his revelation. When Solo reached to pull her into his embrace, Leia gripped his biceps and kept herself at arm's length

"If she was such a great boss, what were you doing sleeping with her?"

Solo shrugged, no doubt prepared to let her have that one.

"All right," he agreed, "maybe a lieutenant shouldn't have seduced her ensign. But she _was_ seven years older than me." He leaned towards Leia and whispered, "And I was pretty irresistible back then."

He melodramatically cried out at the gentle punch she landed on his arm. "Owww! Why are you always violent with me?"

Leia's smile was at odds with the sternness of her words. "You're incorrigible, you know that."

"But everything I've said is true!" he exaggerated, his eyes wide with innocence. "I was cute and she seduced me. You can ask her."

The princess had to chuckle at the imagery that came to mind. "Oh, I can see that working a treat at surrender negotiations. 'Excuse me, Commander Saxel, could you please explain what led you to have carnal relations with my lover when he was your subordinate? Did you really seduce an ensign?'"

Solo grinned. "Just don't make it an agenda item, okay?"

"Or suggest to discuss it in committee?"

"Yeah," Han agreed cheekily. "Lose the committees.

Leia snuggled into his chest, tilted her lips up and kissed his throat. Her disquiet and jealousy had dissipated almost as soon as Han had pointed it out. She decided she could deal with the fact that Han had slept with Saxel, mainly because any relationship that had existed was such a long time ago—long before the princess and the smuggler had met—it hardly seemed to matter. Leia had also Han's honest response to her question endearing and a comfort, and she wondered if they had reached a point in their relationship where he trusted her enough to openly share his past.

"So why don't _you_ want to see Ascher?" Leia prodded.

She could feel Han grimaced against the top of her head. She could read him as easily as he could read her.

"I'll see her," Solo admitted. "I just didn't wanna do it right now."

"Just didn't wanna do it right now," Leia mimicked, exaggerating his accent.

She squealed as he pinched her on the bottom. When she attempted to return the favour, he grabbed her wrist to stop her. A brief, playful struggle ensued, and he easily over-powered her, held her wrists down on either side of her shoulders and pressed her against the bed. There was a menacing gleam in his eye, but Leia only giggled into his face. To shut her up, he kissed her hard. Her sighs were muffled and she willingly returned his ardour. When the kiss ended and they stared at each other breathlessly, until Leia sniggered again.

Han rolled his eyes and released her arms. "You sure know how to ruin a romantic moment, Princess."

Leia grinned. "I love it when you get so aroused and virile."

Han shook his head, a weariness tinting his light-hearted remark. "And then you laugh at me. Maybe I should have stayed away for another 10 days."

"Maybe you shouldn't have changed the conversation," Leia counselled.

Han pulled back from her but she wrapped her arms around him before he got too far away. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She sat up, straddled his waist, then reached across and increased the strength of the lights. Solo squinted at the sudden brightness and shaded his eyes with his arm as he looked up at her.

Leia ran her fingers up the underside of his arm that lay dropped across his brow. "Do you know what I think?" she purred.

He looked at her suspiciously, but played along. "What do you think?"

Her other hand traced along his arm that rested across his stomach. "I think that you pretend you like being in control all the time. That you always want to be the boss, lead rather than follow. But in reality, you really like to be dominated."

Solo smirked. "Oh, I do, do I? How'd you figure that?"

Leia's fingers encircled the bones of his wrists. "Women's intuition." She gently took his arms and he compliantly allowed her to position them so that she held his hands above his head. "And your track record."

She leaned down towards his face, kissed him softly on the lips, opening his mouth to hers and guiding him through the moment. He offered no resistance.

When they parted and Leia released his wrists and caressed the side of his face. His arms remained up on the pillow and he lay prostrate beneath her.

"So dominate me, Princess," he whispered.

And she did.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For my take on Han's service with the Imperial Navy and court martial, please check out my other fic, Life Debt. Ascher Saxel also puts in an appearance in Parts 2 and 12.

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Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **VII**

When the chrono alarm sounded, Han convinced Leia to turn it off and spend another forty minutes in his arms before she rose. As a result, the princess arrived late for the beginning of the third session of surrender negotiations. By the time she reached the conference room, the Imperials were already mingling with the Alliance officers, sipping on cups of kaffe and making small talk.

When she entered the room, all heads turned curiously in her direction, and Leia had the distinct impression that they had been waiting for her. She hesitated for a moment, feeling a mixture of guilt and disregard for the fact that she was responsible for holding up proceedings. She glanced at the Alliance and Imperial officers, but ensured she did not meet the gaze of Ascher Saxel. Although she was no longer jealous of the relationship the commander had shared with Han, Leia somehow felt embarrassed that the only other woman in this room had had sex with the man who was now _her_ lover.

Her years of political experience and training quickly settled Leia's emotions and, acting as though her tardiness was nothing out of the ordinary, she took her seat at the table behind the holographic name plaque that labelled her as 'Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan'. While none of her Alliance colleagues used their home worlds to identify who they were, Leia had insisted upon reminding these Imperials that she represented a planet that had been destroyed by the Empire.

The Alliance and Imperial officers followed Leia's lead and assumed their seats. The princess feigned preoccupation and busied herself by calling up the minutes of the previous sessions on the screen in front of her. She glanced through the transcriptions that had been recorded, compiled and annotated by the conference room's automated systems. She fiddled with a stylus, pushed together a sheath of flimsy, before she noticed a data chip sitting next to the interface board. Her fingers hovered above the chip, then stopped when she read the hand-written label: _Han – images_.

Leia immediately zeroed in on Saxel. The commander was seated diagonally opposite, watching the princess intently. She offered Leia a small smile, nodded encouragingly, but the princess retracted her fingers from the chip as if she had been scalded.

"Gentles." Dodonna called for their attention. "I trust you all had an enjoyable evening." There were murmurs of agreement from Imperial and Alliance officers alike.

Dodonna's affable smile twitched into a sneer. "And I apologise for the delay in commencing this session." He stared dourly at Leia, but she refused to avert her eyes. "The schedule for this session is to table Imperial resources: human, droid, mechanical, munitions, and other supplies. This should lead us into plans for decommissioning your vessels and demobilisation of your troops. We will then break for a meal. Following this, and at the request of Admiral Vonniiton,"—Dodonna nodded respectfully across the table towards the senior Imperial officer—"I would like to take you on a tour of this magnificent Mon Cal cruiser."

Dodonna's proposal was a winner amongst the Imperials, and smiles and comments of anticipation rippled around the table. When silence settled again and kaffe cups had been refilled by attending droids, business turned to the matters at hand.

After the first opening sentences of the discussions, Leia knew she would find it difficult to concentrate. Not only was the listing of inventories the subtlest form of torture she could imagine, she now also had an enticingly labelled data chip begging to be accessed. She looked across at Commander Saxel again, but the other woman was dutifully focussed on her captain as he quietly conferred with her. The princess ran a fingernail along the edge of the chip, wondering exactly what the images were and whether they were offered in a gesture of goodwill or malice. Would this give her an innocuous insight into Han's time in the Imperial Navy, or would this be intimate images Saxel wanted to rile the princess with?

Saxel risked a glance at the princess, and Leia raised her hand from the data chip, casually tucked a tendril of hair back behind her ear. She decided she would not access the chip here, but instead wait until she was back in the privacy of her cabin, and preferably before Han arrived. Leia knew how to resist temptation. After all, she had resisted Han's advances for three years, she could resist this for ten hours. She folded her hands in her lap and turned her attention to the proceedings.

By the time the third executive officer had completed detailing his ship's inventory, Leia's focus had further deteriorated. She bit her lower lip. It was now Saxel's turn to formally read out the detailed list of resources of the Star Destroyer for which she was XO. The commander was engrossed in her dissertation, and so did not see Leia slip the data chip into the interface port of her terminal.

A 2-D image album launched in a corner of the princess' monitor. Leia glanced sideways at her neighbours, however they were both keeping track of the Imperial assets, not looking at her screen. Leia increased the size of the album to full screen and directed the application to commence its display. Her heart lodged in her throat as the first image faded into view—it was a young Imperial officer, standing in his cabin, looking directly into the lens of the imager.

She recognised Han immediately. He was younger—barely out of his teens—lankier, his chest and shoulders not yet fully developed. His cheeks still had the fullness of youth, his chin was unmarked by the slash of scar, but there was no mistaking the glint in his eye or the turn of a smirk on his lips. His hair was also cut far shorter than she had ever seen him wear. Regulation length, it had been clipped around his ears and the back of his neck, and cut spiky-short on the crown of his head, but the way his fringe sat rumpled across his forehead softened the look and suggested a rebelliousness in his nature.

Leia smiled ruefully to herself. _He_ _ **was**_ _right, damn him._ He had been irresistible, but she knew also she was biased. The black Imperial uniform he wore emphasised his rangy physique and took her breath away. Leia almost hated herself to being attracted to someone wearing _that_ uniform.

 _If I'd known him back then,_ she considered wistfully, _I probably would have remained a loyal citizen of the Empire._

The rank pips indicated he was an ensign and she estimated his age at 20. A quick calculation and Leia realised she had been only nine years old when the shot had been taken. She tried not to dwell on the absurdity of a nine-year-old Alderaani princess having a crush on a 20-year-old Imperial pilot.

Leia called up the next image. Han in uniform in his cabin, but this time with a civilian gun-rig slung low around his hips and a heavy blaster pistol drawn, posing for the imager. She recognised the holster and blaster immediately; he had worn them since she had known him, wore them even now. Except in the image, holster and blaster looked almost brand new, barely nicked. This surprised her slightly. She had thought Han would have taken to wearing the gun-rig during his time as a smuggler, not when he was in the Navy. There must have another factor in his life that had influenced him to wear a weapon and develop his speed draw to near-legendary status.

Leia kept a grin in check— _Show off!_ —and examined the rest of his cabin as she sought clues to who Han was. Crisply folded bedclothes of the regulation-made bunk. A neat and tidy desk with a terminal rising from it and a pilot's kitbag next to that. A secure locker above the bunk, probably where he stored his weapon. And on the other bulkhead, a small shelf held a metallic model starfighter mounted on a base that bore an inscription, probably a trophy or award from his Academy days. Leia resolved to never again comment on the dishevelled state of his cabin onboard the _Falcon_.

This tantalising glimpse into his past enticed Leia. It was amazing how different and structured his life had been back then—and how different his life _now_ could have been, if not for his court martial…

The next file was video of Han in a holographic target range, going through the speed draw sequence she had seen him practice before, though now he usually practiced against a target remote. From what she could tell, his technique appeared to be less natural back then, not the flowing style that he had since perfected. But the final shot, when he turned and smiled down the imager lens, showed how proud he had been of his developing skill.

She moved onto images of Han in his black flight suit, sweat plastering the hair to his head, sometimes with other pilots—his friends and colleagues—sometimes on his own, but always with the familiar lopsided grin across his face. The young ensign looked happy with his life, Leia reflected. Confident, comfortable and capable.

She ceased her musing as a stunning image dissolved onto the screen. Han in his full ceremonial uniform, the black cap pulled low over his eyes, standing at attention, his gaze riveted ahead. There were ranks of pilots and troopers behind him, so he was obviously on parade. The Imperial crest superimposed in an upper corner of the frame indicated this was an official Navy image and not a personal shot from Ascher's files.

The following image was from the same parade, only this time Han had stepped forward, away from the rank he had been standing in. Wondering at the significance of the parade and why he had been singled out, Leia called up the third image and caught her breath. A senior officer was formally fixing the red piping of the Corellian Bloodstripe to the leg of Han's trousers.

Leia was aware of the significance of this ceremony. The Bloodstripe was an infrequently awarded military decoration, an affectation the Corellian Sector of the Imperial forces held onto. It was awarded for heroic acts, to appropriately distinguish and honour the recipient. When Solo had first become involved with the Rebellion, many Alliance officers, particularly those of Corellian extraction, had commented on the incongruity of a smuggler wearing the Bloodstripe. Some had even suggested, rather archly, that Solo must have killed the original recipient of the decoration and have claimed it for himself. Leia had always thought differently, however. Her belief had started out as a _feeling_ , based mainly on how right the decoration looked on him. As they had grown closer, Solo had answered her questions about the decoration, albeit with a level of reticence: yes, it was the Corellian Bloodstripe and no, you didn't get one just for keeping your nose clean.

That was the extent of his admissions to her, about the award and his time in the Imperial forces. Luke had been able to discover more, and he in turn had passed on the information to Leia. It had been Luke who had told her that Solo graduated from the Academy with honours, that he had been a pilot in the Navy and had reached the rank of lieutenant before being court martialled for freeing Chewbacca from his life as a slave.

Leia could only speculate why Solo would not discuss his life as an Imperial pilot with her. Admittedly, she hadn't exactly asked him as she'd always found it difficult to ask him personal questions about his past, mainly because he didn't freely offer up the information. At least she could now partially understand why he did not want to talk about it. These images showed Han in his element: laughing, joking and enjoying himself. The Solo she had originally met had been a cynical, jaded smuggler. The contrast between the two was astounding.

Leia had always thought that Solo's silence was due to a deep-seated shame that he had been an Imperial. But now that she had seen these images, she suspected he had buried the memories and emotions so deeply that he may not have known _how_ to recall them.

The princess accessed more images of Han receiving the Bloodstripe, the smart salute he snapped out to the presenting officer. Then more official Imperial documentation depicted another ceremony, this time of Ensign Solo, complete with Bloodstripe, received his lieutenant pips. Leia found herself smiling at the image of Lieutenant Solo saluting the senior officer, perplexed that she could feel proud of him even if it was an Imperial ceremony.

It was with some disappointment that she came to the final image. It was a profile shot of Han sitting on a bunk that was not his own, for the layout of the cabin was slightly different from previous images she had seen. His feet were bare, long legs drawn up onto the bunk, and he wore only his trousers and a black, sleeveless undershirt. He was staring ahead, looking out of frame, his chin resting on a fist. The shape of his face was sharper, more like the way he had looked when he had rescued her from the Death Star, and a frown marred his forehead. _Broodingly handsome,_ was the description that immediately came to Leia's mind.

The princess restarted the album and scrolled through the 24 images again, taking her time, to study them in minute detail. When the sequence came to an end, the princess sighed to herself as she acknowledged that the excitement she had felt had been subsumed by a dull ache. She wished she could share these memories with Han, wished she could be a part of his past as well as his future.

The princess looked across the table towards Ascher Saxel. The commander had finished listing her ship's inventory and was now taking questions from one of the Alliance officers, but she acknowledged Leia's gaze with a curt nod of her head. Leia gave the other woman a small yet grateful smile. There was no malice or spite in Ascher's gift, and Leia felt slightly ashamed of herself for originally thinking so. These images provided an unexpected and privileged insight into a part of Han's life that been previously inaccessible. If anything, Leia owed Ascher a debt of gratitude.

Leia turned her attention back to the terminal. She re-sized the 2-D album, pulled up a text editor window and authenticated with Commander Saxel's terminal. Ascher was too busy responding to another question, but Leia sent the message regardless.

 _ **Commander Saxel. Thank you for the data chip. It was very thoughtful of you. Leia Organa.**_

Leia considered disconnecting from the message service into Ascher's terminal, but on a whim decided to remain on-line to see if the other woman would respond. Her attention returned to the 2-D album, and she cycled through the images again while the discussions continued. She had just reached the video of Han at the holo-range when a text message window appeared on her screen.

 **]** _ **You are most welcome, Your Highness. I had hoped that you would appreciate them.**_ **[**

Leia quickly responded. _**I do. Thank you again.**_

The two women looked up from their terminals, glanced around guiltily to ensure that none of their colleagues knew what they were up to, and then smiled at each other _. This is almost like passing notes in class,_ Leia thought, then read the next message on her screen from Ascher.

 **]** _ **This is almost like passing notes in class.**_ **[**

The princess suppressed a laugh, but the noise she made was enough to turn curious heads in her direction. She placed a hand to her mouth, took a sip of water from the beaker in front of her.

"Excuse me," she mumbled.

She pretended to pay attention as the discussions proceeded, but when she looked at her screen again, there was another message from Ascher.

 **]** _ **Oops. Sorry for nearly dropping you in it, Your Highness.**_ **[**

For the first time since they had met, Leia realised that the commander was Corellian. Although the woman had no discernible accent, the colloquialism she had used was most definitely Corellian, and one that Han used. If Han and Ascher had been friends, Leia wondered how much alike the two of them were.

 _ **Please, call me Leia.**_ _After all,_ she added to herself, _we've shared the same man._

 **]** _ **And I'm Ascher.**_ **[**

There was a moment of inactivity on the screen, before Ascher wrote, **]** _ **I'd like to apologise for my behaviour at dinner last night. It was rather inappropriate of me to speak to you like that.**_ **[**

They may have been friends and compatriots, Leia realised, but Ascher was nothing like Han.

 _ **Thank you**_ **.** _ **However, I was also a bit hypersensitive. Anything you said was likely to have riled me.**_

 **]** _ **How long have you known Han for?**_ **[**

Leia gave careful consideration to the question, then realised it was probably to be expected; the only thing they had in common was Han.

 _ **I've known him for four years. He helped rescue me from the Death Star.**_

Leia watched Ascher's eyes widen as she read the revelation.

 **]** _ **I had no idea.**_ **[**

The princess smiled to herself. _**Neither did he, at the time.**_

The next comment surprised Leia.

 **]** _ **Now that sounds like Han.**_ **[**

Leia was tempted to ask exactly what Ascher had meant by that remark, but she thought it was probably easier to go back to the beginning.

 _ **Where do you know Han from?**_

 **]** _ **He was posted to the same squadron as I was. I first met him when he was fresh out of the Academy. Loud, arrogant and full of his own self-importance.**_ **[**

Leia wrote, _**Well, he hasn't changed then.**_

Across the table, Ascher sniggered into a cup of kaffe.

With a congenial atmosphere now established between, Leia felt confident in broaching the next subject. _**I understand that you and Han had a relationship.**_

There was a moment's hesitation before Ascher responded, **]** _ **Yes, I suppose you could call it that. It effectively ended not long after Han received his lieutenant pips and was posted to a different squadron. Besides which, I don't think he really took it seriously.**_ **[**

There was the unwritten inference that Ascher _had_ been serious about their relationship. Leia had no desire to head down that path.

Ascher continued, ] _ **When I look back on it,**_ _ **with the benefit of hindsight, it was pretty stupid for us to have started fraternising. Actually, it was my fault. I was the senior. I shouldn't have allowed our friendship to develop further than it did. We both could have ended up in a lot of trouble.**_ **[**

Leia was aware that fraternisation was forbidden between members of the Imperial forces, and even frowned upon within Alliance ranks. Still, Leia could not help herself and responded, _**Han ended up in a lot of trouble anyway, didn't he?**_

The window on Leia's screen was momentarily blank before Ascher wrote back, **]** _ **Yes. He did.**_ **[**

There was an unexpected break in discussions that Leia only noticed because everyone at the table suddenly rose and moved towards the refreshments that a pair of serving droids had brought in. Only Ascher and herself remained at the table. As tempting as it was continue her private conversation with Ascher, Leia knew it would not be politically correct to remain at the table while the rest of the gathering mingled over pastries and kaffe. The two women grinned at each other meekly, then left their places to join their colleagues, but not before locking their monitors off from prying eyes.

Leia used the break in discussions to visit the refresher facilities. When she returned, she collected a cup of herbal tea from one of the droids and deliberately avoided straying too close to Ascher. Although she had enjoyed her discussion with Ascher, she wasn't quite ready to test if they could maintain an amiable face-to-face conversation. Fortunately Ascher did not approach the princess, instead seeming content to remain off to one side with a few of her colleagues.

The break was only meant as a leg-stretch, to freshen the kaffe and keep the hunger pains at bay, and the delegates shortly resumed their seats for commenced discussions on decommissioning vessels and troop demobilisation. Ascher was involved in the planning process and so she had no time to continue her on-line conversation with the princess. Leia did her best to keep track of discussions, but as she had no part to play in the level of military details, her attention soon wandered back to the 2-D album. She found herself scrolling through the images and video, vainly trying to imagine the story behind each one. She wondered if it would be prudent to ask Ascher about Han's life back then, or if she should just be grateful for the images and be done with it.

A text window launched onto Leia's screen and Ascher picked up from where they had left off. **]** _ **Han's done rather well for himself, hasn't he?**_ **[**

Leia wasn't certain if Ascher was referring to his rank or the fact that he was sleeping with a princess. Her response was non-committal. _**Yes, I suppose he has.**_

 **]** _ **Especially when you consider the background he's come from.**_ **[**

As Leia didn't know much about Han's background, she was at a decided disadvantage and considered agreeing with Ascher, pretending that Han had told her everything. But then Leia realised that may ruin any chance she had of learning more.

 _ **I'm not aware of his background. My knowledge of Han only goes back four years. Prior to that, it's a bit blurry.**_

Leia's eyes met Ascher's. As the commander did not reply, Leia continued.

 _ **Han doesn't like to talk about himself. No, that's wrong. Han doesn't like to talk about his past, with me anyway. I think he's afraid that I might not respect where he's come from. Or that I may pity him.**_

Ascher agreed, **]** _ **He's always loathed pity.**_ **[**

 _ **I wish he would tell me more about his past.**_ Leia hesitated for a moment, before adding, _**There is no way it could ever change the way I feel about him.**_

 **]** _ **Leia, if it's any consolation, Han never told me anything either.**_ **[** The two women looked at each other across the tops of their terminals. **]** _ **Everything I know has come straight from his personnel file.**_ **[**

Leia did take comfort in Ascher's words. It was satisfying to hear that Han's reticence stretched over many years and was not restricted to her alone. Then Leia realised that Ascher would have been able to access extensive personal information about Han because she had been his superior.

 _ **Would it be possible for you to tell me a few things about his background?**_

The screen was blank before more words appeared: **]** _ **What did you want to know?**_ **[**

Leia didn't wish to appear greedy or needy. There was so much she wanted to know about Han, but she suspected there would be a limit to Saxel's knowledge and the extent that the other woman would be willing to reveal.

Leia began, _**Does Han have any family?**_

Family had always been important to Leia, especially as hers had been so brutally ripped apart. She now considered her family to be made up of Han, Luke and Chewbacca.

Ascher's reply managed to convey a sense of sobriety _._ _ **]I don't believe so. I understand his mother died when he was very young.**_ **[**

Leia's heart twinged in empathy. She knew what it meant to lose your mother a young age. Even now, she pined for the mother she had never known.

 **]** _ **Han's father was murdered in a public plaza in Coronet. Han's psych file mentioned that Han witnessed it. I think he was about twelve years old when it happened.**_ **[**

Leia closed her eyes as the ache subsumed her being. That one piece of information explained so much about who Han was, it was almost like viewing him from a new perspective. She found herself loving him even more as a result.

Ascher reminded Leia, **]** _ **Don't pity him,**_ **,** _ **he'd hate that.**_ **[**

Leia's response was totally inadequate, but she needed to keep the conversation flowing. _**I had no idea.**_

 **]** _ **Does he still practice that speed draw of his? With a wicked, custom-made DL-44?**_ **[**

 _ **Yes.**_

 **]** _ **And he's good? Very, very good?**_ **[**

 _ **Outstanding.**_

 **]** _ **I've always suspected that the two are related. The death of his father, and his obsession with being fast with a blaster.**_ **[**

Leia had a sudden flash of insight. _Yes,_ she silently agreed. _That's exactly why he's perfected his speed draw. He doesn't want to be caught out, like his father was._

Ascher continued, **]** _ **I asked him about it once, but he refused to tell me. He was furious that that I even knew about the death of his father.**_ **[**

 _You can't just ask him things like that,_ Leia told herself, recognising that Ascher hadn't known Han well if she had seriously expected an answer to her question. _He won't discuss things that hurt him. Remember what happened when you asked him about the scar on his hand?_

Leia was suddenly overwhelmed by something she could only describe as a Force vision. Far more than her previous flashes of insight, her mind was bombarded with an amalgam of images, a jumble that was like catching glimpses of a holo-feature in slow motion.

 _She watched a familiar-looking dark-haired man dressed in spacer attire, strolling across an unfamiliar plaza. The man raised his hand in greeting to someone Leia could not see._

 _She heard a shout in the distance, a young voice screaming out, "Da!"_

 _The man's face froze, became ugly, and he reached inside his vest, fumbled to retrieve a holdout blaster from the hidden holster. In that instant, his chest exploded into a twisted mess of flesh, bone and muscle as a projectile tore through his back. He'd been shot from behind._

 _The crowd in the plaza panicked. There were screams and shouts, people running in all directions, frightened by the seemingly random act of violence. Amidst the noise and confusion though, Leia heard ragged breathing, as surely as if it was her own. Someone desperately trying to push their way through the crowd. Then she saw him; a young boy dodging past people as he ran towards the scene of the killing. The boy collided with a stranger and went tumbling to the ground, his hands spread out in front of him. A shard of pain speared into Leia's own hands, and she felt the gravel slice into the boy's open palm._

 _The boy staggered to his feet and wiped a hand across his cheek, leaving a smear of blood across his face. He continued on towards the body of the dark-haired man, and crumpled down next to him. For a moment, the boy was at a loss at what to do, staring in horror at the remains of the man's chest. Then something in the boy's hazel eyes became hard and he placed his hands into the gaping wound, vainly trying to stop the flow of blood._

 _Leia knew the man was already dead. His eyes were open, the gaze dull, lifeless._

The vision faded out, leaving Leia with an image of the boy cradling the body of his dead father, blinking back the tears, valiantly refusing to let them fall.

Leia rubbed her thumb across the top of her palm, recalling the thin white scar that marked Han's hand. She had only recently asked him about the scar. They had been playing a simple game in bed. A game where she found one of his scars, he told her how he received it, and then she rewarded him by kissing the mark. He told her the stories behind the old blaster wounds on his arm and the slash across his chin. But when she asked about the scar across his palm, his shields had come on-line. He'd closed himself to her, said he couldn't remember, then rolled from the bed and had a 'fresher.

At the time, Leia had been annoyed and frustrated by the way he had shut her out. Now, though, she understood. Han did not want to remember how he had gained the scar. The memories were too painful to allow them to surface.

Not certain how much time had passed, Leia looked down at her screen. Ascher's last comment was still there: _**I asked him about it once, but he refused to tell me. He was furious that that I even knew about the death of his father.**_ **[**

Not wanting to share her personal revelation with Ascher, Leia instead ventured, _**Do you know what happened to Han after the death of his father?**_

 **]** _ **The records weren't that clear, I'm afraid. There was a mention of him being placed in the care of the Corellian Children's Services, so I assume that means numerous foster homes, and all the nurturing and affection that implies.**_ **[**

Leia didn't know quite how to react to the spiteful tone in Ascher's words, so she simply wrote, _**Oh.**_

Leia had grown up under the adoptive care of Bail and Breha Organa and had experienced nothing but love and affection. Unfortunately, she was aware there would have been a marked difference between her childhood in the palace at Aldera and Han's under the care of the Corellian state.

The princess studied the woman across the table. _**Han told me you were his flight leader.**_

 **]** _ **That must've taken some effort to pry out of him.**_ **[**

 _ **I've got a few special methods that work on him.**_ Leia advised cryptically, knowing full well her comment could be taken as a boast. _**What was he like back then?**_

 **]** _ **You mean apart from loud, arrogant and full of his own self-importance?**_ **[**

 _ **Yes.**_

 **]** _ **Han was vibrant. Alive. At times, he was almost wild and verging on undisciplined, but he managed to hide that well. He was also a sarcastic son-of-a-bitch. And cute as anything.**_ **[**

Leia smiled in agreement; the data chip had shown her proof of how cute he'd been.

 **]** _ **But beneath it all, there was a darkness that haunted him. There was an aloneness about him. He preferred his own company and relied on no-one but himself.**_ **[**

Not wanting to focus on the images from her vision, Leia pressed, _**Was he a good pilot?**_

 **]** _ **The best in the sector. Far better than me. And didn't he know it.**_ **[**

As if she was tired of supplying all the information, Ascher asked, **]** _ **So what did Han do between his time in the Navy and joining the Rebellion?**_ **[**

Leia thought it best not to sully Han's reputation too much with an old friend and colleague. _**After the discharge, he became a free**_ _ **trader.**_

 **]** _ **You mean became a smuggler?**_ **[** Ascher asked rather bluntly, and Leia belatedly realised she had chosen the wrong description. 'Free trader' was the Corellian euphemism for smuggler.

Leia could almost read the shrug in Ascher's next comments. **]** _ **Oh well. I suppose it was to be expected. I understand his old man was a trader. Like father, like son.**_ **[**

 _I hope not exactly alike,_ Leia thought to herself. She shivered away the image of Han's father lying dead in the streets of Coronet, his blood staining the clothes of his son.

Oblivious to the rest of the proceedings, the princess was surprised when Ascher was able to answer a question that had been directed at her by her captain. Her captain seemed satisfied with the response, and nodded his approval.

Ascher waited to see if she was required again before turning back to the interface board and typing: **]** _ **Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?**_ **[**

Leia dipped her head in admiration.

The two women continued their discussions, swapping tidbits of information and sharing recollections. By the time the meal break arrived, Leia felt closer to Ascher than she ever thought possible. And all thanks to the one thing they had in common—Han.

As the delegates filed from the conference room and into the dining area, Leia waited by the doorway for Commander Saxel. Ascher inclined her head respectfully and accompanied the princess into the adjoining room.

"So, Princess," Ascher ventured, taking up from where their written conversation had concluded. "Can you tell me why Han threw away a successful career with the Navy, just to free a Wookiee slave?"

Leia blanched and averted her eyes, disturbed at the commander's attitude towards slaves and her inability to understand what had possessed Han to act the way he had. Perhaps even more disquieting, was the touch of anger which was apparent in Ascher's exasperation, as though she was a scorned lover. Leia again wondered if there had been more to the relationship between lieutenant and ensign than Han was letting on.

The princess contemplated Commander Saxel, carefully regarding the other woman and wondering if this was a question she had the right to answer on Han's behalf. Solo had never spoken about why or how he'd freed Chewbacca from captivity, but Leia she had enough pieces of the puzzle to make a reliable guess about what had happened.

Han may have been an Academy honours graduate, but he hadn't had a military bone in his body. Even now he struggled with the disciplinary side of being a general. Solo could only have achieved such a high level of success at the Academy through skill, dedication and sheer bloody-mindedness. But his innate distrust of authority figures, his disdain for discipline and protocol, must have severely chafed him during his time in the Navy.

Han's natural leadership ability notwithstanding, the turmoil must have brewed inside the young junior officer. Leia also knew that deep in his heart, Han had never been a true Imperial. His spirit had been too pure and innocent; she had seen as much in the eyes of the twelve-year-old boy cradling the corpse of his father.

Seeing the injustices of Imperial rule, the pain and suffering inflicted upon the weak, would no doubt have forced Han to question his allegiance. _No, not question,_ she corrected herself. _He would have instinctively reacted._ He would have freed Chewbacca, and then worried about what he had done later. By then his fate would have been sealed. It would have been too late to take back his actions.

Leia tilted her head questioningly. "Do you really believe Han would have had a successful career in your Navy?"

Ascher dropped her gaze, as if realising her view was not necessarily the right one to express in an Alliance environment, especially during surrender negotiations. She did not respond until she and Leia had assumed adjacent seats at the dining table.

"Han's still the best pilot I've ever met. No one else has come close," Ascher explained quietly. "If he'd stayed in the Navy, he could've been an admiral by now. He could've been in command of his own sector."

Leia didn't believe Ascher's assertion. She could not imagine Han carving out a long and illustrious career with the Imperial Navy. Yet even if Lieutenant Solo had taken a different course, if his life hadn't crossed paths with a Wookiee and he had remained a loyal officer of the Empire, he would now be very much on the wrong side. _Or dead,_ Leia thought. _Killed in some battle against the Rebellion. And I wouldn't be here either._

The princess pursed her lips. "Ascher, if you want to know why Han took the course that he did, that's something you really need to ask him."

Leia was aware she had said something very similar the previous night after dinner, except this time her words carried no spite.

"Last time I saw him, I tried." Ascher grimaced and nodded to herself, as if understanding why her actions had been in vain. "It was straight after the court martial. He wasn't in the mood to offer me an explanation."

Leia touched Ascher's forearm and looked into the elder woman's eyes.

"Try him again," the princess suggested. "There's a lot of distance since then. And despite what I said, he has changed, even in the time that I've known him. I'm sure he'll tell you what you want to know."

Ascher raised a dubious eyebrow. "You certainly have a lot of faith in Han."

The princess rested her hands in her lap, conscious of the men seated around the table, though they all seemed absorbed in their own private discussions or were selecting meals from the menu.

"Han deserves my faith," Leia admitted. "He proves himself to me every day."

Ascher's lips twitched. "Then he has changed."

Leia could think of no response to Ascher's comment or her animosity. A serving droid was now hovering near the princess's shoulder, waiting to take her meal order, and she hurriedly perused the menu, then requested a small salad and a glass of juice.

After Ascher placed her order, there was a strained silence between the two women. Neither seemed comfortable with the other, or with what other topic of conversation, besides Han, they could discuss. To fill the lull, Leia spoke briefly with the Alliance general, Kischel Yarum, to her left. Her attention, however, continued to stray back to Commander Saxel. She needed to get Ascher and Han to meet, resolve past history, and ensure they were prepared to hear the other out. At this stage, though, Leia wasn't too sure she liked her chances.

When the serving droid returned with their meals, Leia took the opportunity to pick up where she had left her conversation with Ascher.

"If you would like to see Han," Leia offered, "I can arrange something."

Ascher stopped picking at her food and looked at the princess. Leia was relieved to see the latent hostility was absent from Ascher's eyes.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I'd appreciate that very much."

Leia gave her a small smile and reminded her, "Please. It's Leia."

Ascher nodded but said nothing in reply.

 _Now,_ Leia thought, _all I've got to do is convince Han._


	8. Chapter 8

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **VIII**

The tour of the Mon Cal cruiser started at the bridge, wound its way down through the various levels, through the main briefing theatre to the dining hall of the all ranks mess, a cursory visit past the engineering and weapons systems sections, into the flight control deck and finally out onto the gantry that lined one bulkhead of the main hangar.

General Kischel Yarum led the ten Imperials officers through the hatchway, with Princess Leia following up the rear. Apart from Yarum, Leia was the only other Alliance representative in this entourage. She had hoped that if the opportunity arose, she may have be able to get Ascher's reunion with Han over and done with sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, they had not managed to bump into Han yet because, Leia suspected, he was working on the _Falcon_ as opposed to strolling around the ship looking for Ascher.

Upon entering the main hangar, Leia's enthusiasm increased as she focused on the profile of Solo's YT-1300 freighter that rested down on the deck less than 50 metres away. Han was on the upper hull of the _Falcon_ , hunkered over one of the maintenance access bays on the starboard bow mandible, his head bowed down. Actinic glare from a macrofuser lit him in harsh flashes of blue as he welded the ship's superstructure. Dark coveralls soiled with grease hid his shipboard clothing, protective goggles covered his eyes and he looked like any of the other technicians in the hangar, not the general that he was. His lips were moving and Leia suspected he was talking to himself about the repairs, or more likely swearing in frustration.

General Yarum was pointing out the various larger ships that were docked in the bay, shuttles and transports, and explained that the fighter squadrons were located in their own smaller hangars.

Leia nudged Ascher to get her attention but she, like her colleagues, had already picked out the _Millennium Falcon_ as the vessel that had buzzed the conference room the previous day. General Yarum answered a few pointed questions about the battered YT-1300 freighter and her captain, trying to maintain a sense of decorum without tarnishing the reputation or either Solo or the Alliance. The general furtively tried to capture the eye of Princess Leia, his gaze beseeching her for assistance, but the princess appeared unaware of Yarum's predicament.

Ascher glanced down at Leia, then nodded her chin in the direction of the _Falcon_.

"Han?" she asked quietly.

Leia rested her hands on the gantry's balustrade. "Yes. He doesn't like maintenance crews laying a hand on the _Falcon_. He'd rather do the work himself than risk something going wrong."

Ascher sighed and raised her eyebrows. "It doesn't look like much of a ship."

"She's got it where it counts," Leia automatically responded, then had the sense to look embarrassed when Ascher stared at her curiously.

"Now that sounds like something Han would say," Ascher pointed out with a smirk.

"It is," the princess agreed. "He must be rubbing off on me if I'm starting to talk like him."

"It sounds like it's time for you to either bail out or settle down, Princess," the commander opined glibly, then gave her a mischievous grin to show she was only teasing.

Leia was wondering if Han would stop work long enough so that she could wave to him and beckon him up onto the gantry. But then she thought twice about doing that, especially with all the other Imperials expressing an interest in the smuggler-turned-general. It wouldn't be fair to put him on display like that and he would probably resent her for it. As she watched Solo working, Leia instead resolved to excuse herself from the tour, approach him separately and discuss how and when he would meet with Ascher.

Solo suddenly switched off the macrofuser, stood upright and looked up and across towards the audience he had attracted on the gantry, the goggles still masking his eyes and half his face. As he returned the open stares, Leia noticed the posture of his body stiffen and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Then he stuffed the 'fuser into a tool bag, collected a handful of smaller tools and threw them into the bag as well. Ripping the goggles from his head, he hitched the bag over his shoulder and headed across the hull to the top hatch, where he took the service lift down into the _Falcon_.

"I guess the show's over," Ascher muttered.

The princess stared at the _Falcon's_ upper hull uneasily, wishing Han hadn't left so abruptly. She knew Han would have seen her and would probably blame her for making him the centre of attention. As a result, he may even more resistant to seeing Ascher again.

Taking Solo's exit as an opportunity to get things moving again, General Yarum ushered the group along the gantry, encouraging them to continue the tour. Leia's gaze lingered on the _Falcon_ as they moved along the walkway, then she turned and followed the group out through the hatchway and into a corridor at the other end of the flight control deck.

It wasn't until they were riding back to the conference room level in the turbolift that Leia resolved that she needed to see Han and that she couldn't wait until the end of the next session of discussions. Echoes of the Force vision she had experienced still lingered in her mind. She _had_ to see him and she had to see him _now_. Luke was always telling her that she needed to act on instinct, to trust her feelings more. Han certainly acted that way, though his motives were based on 'doing his own thing' rather than adhering to Jedi doctrine.

The princess waited until they had arrived back at the conference room before she made her move. The session had not yet started, cups were being filled with kaffe, and the Alliance officers who had not gone on the tour were slowly filtering back into the room, and representatives from both sides were taking advantage of the refresher facilities.

The only explanation Leia gave to Ascher was that she would see her later. The commander took a sip of her kaffe and frowned in confusion, then watched as the princess headed towards the Alliance chief of negotiations, General Dodonna.

Dodonna was settling into his seat at the conference table when Leia approached him.

"Excuse me, General, but I'm afraid I must excuse myself for at least the beginning of the next session," Leia explained. "There are some urgent matters I must attend to."

The elderly general cast a cursory glance at the princess before returning his attention to the monitor in front of him.

"Nonsense," Dodonna said dismissively. "Whatever it is, I'm certain it can wait."

Leia held her annoyance in check. There had been a time when Dodonna would have listened to her intently and bent over backwards to ensure she was satisfied. But that was before she and Han became lovers. Dodonna had now taken to casually brushing her off, almost to the point where it was apparent that he did not entirely trust her judgement.

"It can't wait," the princess insisted. "But I'll do my best to ensure I'm back as soon as possible."

Dodonna scowled and turned to face her properly, his face flushed with irritation. "May I remind you, Princess, that you have been assigned to these negotiations and you must see them out to their conclusion. At this point in time, there is nothing else that should be occupying your attention."

Leia put on her most diplomatic smile. She had barely contributed to the three previous sessions—had barely been _allowed_ to contribute, if she really thought about it. She knew she would not be missed. For once, she was going to place her own personal desires above her duty to the Alliance.

"I won't be long," she told Dodonna, overlooking the instruction he had given her. "And I can be contacted via comlink if anything urgent requiring my attention arises."

Dodonna's eyes widened at her tone and her blatant disregard for his order. "Princess—"

Leia nodded in polite leave-taking—"Excuse me, General."—spun on her toe and headed towards the door.

"Princess!" the general called after her. "Princess Leia!"

Ignoring Dodonna's hails, and the amused and curious looks from Alliance and Imperial officers, Leia palmed open the hatch and hurried towards the main hangar.


	9. Chapter 9

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **IX**

Solo was having trouble fusing the hairline crack in the _Falcon's_ maintenance access bay when he had the distinct impression that someone was watching him. The macrofuser had been playing up, running too hot to allow the weld to fuse properly, and then too cold when he tried adjusting the temperature. Preoccupied with the problems he was having, and muttering and cursing to himself, he had been just about to give up in disgust when the hair on the back of his neck rose. All thought of the repair work left his mind, and he straightened up, switching off the 'fuser at the same time. With the 'fuser extinguished, the photo chromatic lenses of his goggles cleared and he had a clear view without having to remove them.

His head tilted up slightly, easily locating the audience that he had attracted. A gaggle of senior Imperial officers looked back at him from their position on the gantry lining the closest bulkhead. They were staring at him intently, some pointing at various features of the _Falcon_ , others directing questions to the Alliance general—Yarum by Solo's reckoning—who stood at the head of the line.

Solo's fist tightened around the grip on the 'fuser. He recalled Leia mentioning that his entrance the previous day had caused heads to duck when they thought a pirate ship was attacking the cruiser. But although he was pleased he had rattled a few Imperial asses, he wasn't too keen on being the main attraction now.

His gaze zipped down the line of Imperials until he came to the petite figure clad in formal, white diplomatic robes. _Of course Leia's part of this little tour group,_ he thought cynically, wondering if it was her or Yarum's idea to pass through the main hangar. Then it occurred to him that Ascher was one of the Imperials, and he decided to pick her out of the crowd when he realised she was standing _next_ to Leia. His eyes ran along the faces of the Imperials again, double-checking there were no other female officers present. The tall, female commander had to be Ascher. What's more, Ascher and Leia were turned towards each other, as though they were conferring.

Solo shook his head. Last night Leia had been so jealous of Ascher, she had refused to talk to her over dinner. Then Leia had pressed him until he had told her about the friendship he'd had with Ascher. Leia had appeared to accept without too much difficulty that his relationship with Ascher had developed into an intimate, physical one.

But although he thought he knew the princess fairly well, sometimes he still couldn't work out what was on going on in her mind. It was just one of the mysteries about women that he would never fathom. His scalp crawled at the thought that Leia and Ascher now appeared to be reasonably cosy with each other. _Another galactic mystery about women that's beyond me._

Solo hurriedly stowed the macrofuser into a carryall and crammed in an assortment of hydrospanners and prybars. He pulled the tool bag up against the back of his shoulder and spun around at the same time that he tore the goggles from his head, blocking his face from view.

Once he was safely back inside the _Falcon_ , Solo slung the tool bag under the tech station and grabbed the relay switch he'd been working on earlier in the day. As the deckplates were open to reveal the hyperdrive innards, he sat down on the makeshift seat and allowed his legs to dangle down into the engine pit. His fished the multi-tool out of a top pocket of his coveralls and attempted to make the minute adjustments to get the damn switch operational again.

His attention was completely absorbed by his work for all of five minutes. After that, he couldn't help but wonder why Leia and Ascher now seemed friendly toward one another, and whether he had become their primary topic of discussion, not the surrender negotiations. Knowing both women the way he did, or at least the way he _thought_ he did, he imagined that any discussions about him would undoubtedly contain minute detail. He could almost picture them together: comparing notes like xenobiologists; exchanging biographical and physiological data; listing his faults and failings; filling in the gaps of his life…

There were so many components of his life as a smuggler that he still hadn't told Leia about, and had _no_ intention of telling her. There were more aspects from when he was a junior Naval officer and before then, when he was a kid roaming the streets of Coronet that he _never_ wanted her to know about. What she didn't know about him back then, he reasoned, wouldn't harm the relationship they had now. He wanted her to love him for who he was now. He couldn't afford to jeopardise that love because of things he had done in the past. Because only Chewie knew the personal details of Solo's life prior to the point where they had joined up with the Rebellion, the Corellian never thought he would have to deal with explaining his chequered history to the woman he loved.

The appearance of Ascher into his life was an unexpected complication.

When he was an ensign, Ascher had known details about Solo's life that he had tried to forget. He didn't think it likely that she would've forgotten what she knew then. Not only was she a first-class operator with a quick mind and excellent recall, Ascher had committed a lethal error when she had started sleeping with the young ensign who was also her wingman; she had fallen in love with him.

Ascher had never admitted the extent of her feelings to him, and Solo had been so wrapped up in himself that he had failed to notice. But with the benefit of hindsight and twelve years' experience behind him, he could recognise the symptoms. Leia had been right. Ascher had been his lover, in every sense of the word. She would no doubt remember the intimate details about him that Leia was interested in discovering. He wondered just how much Ascher would tell Leia, and how much she had already told her.

Solo rested the relay switch in his lap and closed his eyes, remembering the last time he had spoken with Ascher. It had been in the security office of the Coronet Naval compound, directly after his court martial and while his discharge was being formally processed.

Solo hadn't known that Ascher had been present at his court martial until the judge advocate had declared that his punishment had been swayed by the plea of mitigation submitted by Lieutenant Commander Saxel. He had become nauseous when he realised that Ascher had attended the trial, had listened to the string of charges laid against him and heard the evidence used to indict him. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was disappoint the woman whose opinion he had valued so highly.

And then Ascher had appeared in the security office, and Han's survival instincts had kicked in. She had asked him to explain what had happened. Why he had freed an Imperial slave? Why he had assaulted a superior officer? How he could have gotten himself into such a position that a dishonourable discharge had been the only logical conclusion?

Solo could recall his response to her as if it was only yesterday: _"_ _I'm not justifyin' myself to you. It's happened. Live with it."_

With eyes still closed, Solo wiped the side of his hand across his cheek and down to cover his mouth with his palm.

His parting words to Ascher may have been harsh, but they had summed up the way he lived his life—the way he had always lived his life. He had never had the luxury of regret or 'what-might-have-been'. Whatever happened, happened. You either accepted it and moved on, or drowned in your own despair.

There was one vital element that had arisen from his court martial; Ascher's plea had seen him receive only a dishonourable discharge instead of execution. As uncomfortable as it made him feel, he _owed_ her something for that much.

Solo opened his eyes and looked down at the relay switch he held in his hands. Scraping idly at a patch of carbon scoring, he realised there was no way he could avoid a reunion with Ascher. Leia wouldn't stand for it.

The best Han could hope for was that he might be able to repair the switch by then. But the way things were going for him, he seriously doubted his luck.


	10. Chapter 10

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **X**

Leia found Han sitting on side of the engine pit, drumming the multi-tool against some part of the _Falcon_ he had been repairing. She realised he must have been a million parsecs away because he didn't notice her until she was standing across the other side of the pit from him. His gaze focused on her, the corner of his mouth lifting into a guilty half-smile as though he had been caught doing something wrong. Grease trailed a smudge down his cheek to his upper lip, and Leia immediately recalled the image from her Force vision— _blood covering the face of a 12-year-old boy_. His eyes still held a touch of innocence.

"Tour finished?" Solo asked, not concerned with the gruff edge that had crept into his voice.

Leia ignored his tone and moved around towards him, each watching the other silently. To Solo's surprise, she knelt down in front of him, took his face in her hands and gently pressed her lips to his. Solo dropped the tool and relay switch, and spread his hands out on either side of himself to keep his balance as the princess slowly explored the recesses of his mouth with her tongue. When she pulled away from him, she smiled at the bewildered look on his face, and the mix of grease and red lip liner that now marred his upper lip. Then she fondly kissed the tip of his nose.

"What was that for?" he asked softly.

"Do I need a reason?"

He agreed, "You never need a reason to do that, sweetheart."

Using a corner of her sleeve, Leia wiped the grime from her palm and mouth, taking off most of her lipstick at the same time.

"It wasn't my idea to take the Imperials through the hangar," she explained. "General Yarum led the way. I just followed up the rear to keep the stragglers in check."

"And was Asch one of the stragglers?"

"You need to talk to her," Leia told him simply.

He grimaced, knowing exactly what she meant. "I'm not good at talking. You know that."

Leia took one of his hands in hers and squeezed his fingers. "You have no problems talking to me."

"That's different." He looked deep into her eyes. " _We're_ different. Me and Asch were never like that." _Except maybe in her mind,_ he added to himself.

"So you never loved her?"

Sighing and shaking his head in annoyance, Han pulled his hand from hers. "We went through this last night, Leia. Yes, we made love. No, I didn't love her."

"You said you weren't _in love_ ," Leia pointed out.

"Same thing," Solo said brusquely.

"It's not. And you know it's not."

Han sighed again. "I was her wingman, for Kest's sake. She was a lieutenant. I was her ensign. Believe me, in the Imperial Navy you don't love your boss."

Leia waited for his temper to cool slightly before taking his hand again, which he grudgingly allowed her to do. Her fingers caressed the inside of his palm.

"Han, if Ascher ever meant anything to you, then you owe her the courtesy of seeing her and talking about what happened."

Han knew there was one more thing that he owed Ascher—his life. He bit the inside of his cheek and averted his eyes.

"It would mean so much to her," Leia continued, tracing the contours of his palm with her fingertips. "She's really looking forward to seeing you. But there's also a few things she needs to resolve with you."

Solo wished he wasn't hearing this. He knew what the right thing to do was. He also knew that Leia had a way of twisting him around her little finger to get him to do these right things, no matter how painful they were.

He sighed one more time, this time in resignation, and turned his hand over to allow her easy access to his palm. As he wasn't quite ready to meet her gaze, he watched her fingers smooth across the grimy width of his hand. It was then he realised she was tracing the thin, white scar that marked his palm. His eyes shot up to hers, but he saw nothing in the brown depths of them to indicate she knew the origins of his secret.

"I'll see what I can do," he said, removing his hand from hers again, this time to collect the multi-tool and relay switch. "I've got a few things to do before I head back to duty."

Leia smiled her gratitude, leaned forward and kissed his clean cheek, then brushed her lips against his ear. "Are you too busy to head back to your cabin?"

Solo's eyes widened. Although not entirely mollified, he looked at her curiously, an amused grin slipping up his face. He was multi-skilled— he could continue to be annoyed with her, and yet allow her to seduce him at the same time. After all, the one you knocked back was the one you didn't get.

"Don't you have to be somewhere else, Princess?"

Leia's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You're starting to sound like Dodonna."

He teased her further, enjoying the chance to play hard to get for a change and wanting to hear her admit what it was she really wanted from him.

"Aren't there surrender negotiations you should be attending?"

She reached towards the fasteners of his coveralls. "Oh there'll be talk of surrender," she crooned, "just not the sort you'd expect." Still holding onto him, she levered herself to her feet. "But as my knees are killing me, I suggest we continue discussions in your cabin."

She made a show of dragging him upright by the front of his coveralls, but he rose on his own accord. He held his arms out in front of him and nodded at the state of his hands.

"Don't you want me to tidy up first?"

Leia shook her head. "I've never been afraid of a little dirt." She tugged on his clothing and started leading him down the ring corridor. She glanced back at him. "In fact, I _like_ a bit of dirt."

Solo swiped a hand against the switch on the bulkhead, sealing the main hatch, and agreed, "I bet you do."


	11. Chapter 11

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **XI**

The princess decided she need a 'fresher and a change of clothes before she returned to the conference room. By then, she only had to suffer through the final half of the session and even that was bearable as she sat there, smug in the knowledge that she was the only delegate who had spent the last few hours in the arms of her lover. She was also rather satisfied with herself because she had elicited from Han a tentative agreement that he would meet with Ascher after the session had finished.

It had been difficult to contain her eagerness. She had sent a short message to Ascher's terminal to tell her that Han would see them after the meeting. Leia had noticed the commander's face pale slightly, but she expected Ascher's reaction was due to nerves more than anything else.

Dodonna was drawing the session to a close, inviting the Imperials to remain for a few informal drinks. In her mind, Leia was already halfway to the _Falcon_ , with Ascher in tow. Then her comlink trilled, right in the middle of Dodonna's summation. Leia averted her eyes from the austere look on Dodonna's face, excused herself from the table and took the call at the far end of the room.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Han's name on the comlink's display; he was probably calling to see where they were.

"Hi," she answered brightly. "We've nearly finished. Won't be long."

The sudden roar of ion engines drowned out Solo's words. Leia frowned as the engines became a gradual muffle in the background, and she heard the cockpit canopy of a fighter seal shut.

"Sorry about that," Solo apologised. "Things are a bit mad around here."

Leia's stomach pitched. He wasn't waiting for them in the _Falcon_. He was on a flightline, most likely in the cockpit of an X-Wing.

"Where are you?" she asked, prepared not to jump to conclusions just yet. She had been wrong about him before.

"I'm– " He changed his mind about what he had been going to say, and Leia was forced to endure his silence before he continued. "Something's come up."

She asked sceptically, "Something?"

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly assured her. "I gotta head down to Bothawui for a few days."

Leia held her jaw tightly before commenting, "Convenient." And certainly going out of his way _not_ to see Ascher.

"The Bothans want a planetary defence presence before the Imperial de-mobbing starts," he explained. "We've agreed to send down a squadron to keep 'em happy. I'll be leading the squadron."

"You've volunteered?" Leia asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. "Since when have you been concerned with keeping Bothans happy?"

Solo didn't respond, and for a few moments all Leia heard were the communications and life support systems running in the cockpit.

When Han spoke again, his tone was almost placating. "Look, it's only for a few days. Just until things settle down."

"And you've only just returned from a mission," she pointed out. "Why can't someone else go?"

"Hey, Princess, aren't you're always telling me I need to take on more responsibility?"

He was exaggerating her words; she had never quite put it like that.

"Fine then, Han. I guess I'll see you in a few days."

"Leia–" She disconnected the channel before he could say anything more.

Leia stared at the silent comlink, attempting to compose herself and to make allowances for his behaviour. Part of her wanted to be angry with him and punish him for his selfishness and stupidity. Yet images from her Force vision kept drifting back into view, and she knew what had forced him to run. Again.

Despite understanding the instincts that had helped to drive him away, Leia was in no mood to talk to him or encourage him further. She set the comlink's privacy filter so that she would be unable to take any calls, particularly none from Han, but that any caller was free to leave a message. Besides, there was still one more tractor beam she was certain Solo would be unable to escape.

As the noise behind her suggested that Dodonna had finally finished, Leia turned back to the Alliance and Imperial officers. Serving droids entered the conference room, laden with platters of appetisers and alcoholic beverages.

Leia looked across to Ascher. The commander had no doubt sensed the call on the comlink was private and had remained with her colleagues until the princess was ready.

Leia forced a smile across her lips and moved to Ascher's side, selecting a glass of wine from a one of the droids before she came to a gracious halt. She took a sip from the glass before speaking.

"We may as well have a few drinks, Commander," Leia told her pleasantly. "General Solo has been seconded planet-side for the next few days."

Ascher's face fell slightly, but she turned her attention to choosing a glass of a wine and a small, elaborately sliced piece of vegetable.

"The negotiations are concluding tomorrow," Ascher observed. "I guess that means I won't be able to see Han."

Leia smirked into her glass before taking another sip. "Not quite. Will you be attending the reception on Bothawui?"

"Yes, it's mandatory for all officers above the rank of commander."

Pursing her lips together thoughtfully, Leia nodded. "I guarantee Han will be there as well."

Ascher glanced sideways at Leia. "You're guaranteeing his presence? Third time lucky, you figure?"

Leia spied a favourite tidbit on a platter and nimbly picked it up before the droid got too far away.

"If he knows what's good for him," she said dryly, "he'll be there."

Ascher laughed as the princess popped the tasty morsel into her mouth.

"You know, Your Highness, I believe I'm beginning to appreciate your particular brand of diplomacy. And I'm looking forward to seeing you work your magic on Han."

"You and me, both," Leia agreed. She raised her glass towards Ascher. "Allow me to propose a toast."

Ascher raised her glass expectantly, watching as the princess chose her words.

"To old friends and new friends," Leia proposed. "Best friends and girlfriends."

Ascher smiled, clinked her glass against Leia's and added, "May we all wreak havoc on Han Solo."


	12. Chapter 12

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **XII**

From her position at the end of the reception line, Leia had a perfect view of the chamber the Bothans had chosen to host the official welcoming function. Although a relatively intimate room of the ostentatious Parliament House, there was nothing 'less' about the Lesser Hall.

Elaborately carved wooden entrance doors opened up to a vast room that was decorated in the understated, rustic style that was typically Bothan. Two immense woollen tapestries representing the diverse natural environments of Bothawui covered the two shorter end walls. Honey-coloured wood panelling lined the floor and the largest stretch of wall that held the entranceway. Directly opposite the doorway, an expanse of glassine windows stretched up towards the apex of the federal building. Three doorways opened up in the window wall, allowing guests to wander freely out onto a balcony that ran the length of the room. The brilliance of the night sky and the panoramic view of the city's skyline as they glittered through the glassine were as much decoration as the wood panelling and tapestries.

Waiting droids laden with an assortment of beverages were serving guests, circulating from a central bar that hugged centre of the main wooden wall. With the guests comprising senior officers of the five Imperial and ten Alliance vessels, and an unknown number of Bothan politicians, diplomats, bureaucrats, industrialists and local celebrities, Leia estimated that there would be close to 500 beings in the Hall, and it still didn't look crowded. The atmosphere had started out tense, but at last it seemed that the different groups were finally starting to mix and mingle.

Most of the guests had arrived by now, only the officers from Ascher's ship were yet to come, and Leia was grateful that soon she would be able to leave the reception line. Welcoming and being introduced to 500 people was bad enough; having to endure it with General Jan Dodonna only made it worse. At least the high-ranking Bothan leader of the Alliance, Borsk Fey'lya, wasn't here to grandstand and be his usual insufferable self. Fortunately for all, Fey'lya was stationed with the Commander-in-Chief, Mon Mothma, both of whom were somewhere Leia neither knew about nor cared to discover.

In Fey'lya's place was a rather pleasant and mild-mannered Bothan—the First Assistant Secretary of the recently-formed Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Leia couldn't resist smoothing the fabric of her gown. The white, silken material felt wonderful, even extravagant. Thin straps curved over her shoulders, the dress scooped low across the top of her breasts, then fell down from the bodice, along the curves of her slim waist and hips, to brush across the floor in one continuous stream of material. She had thoroughly indulged herself when she had arranged for a Bothan seamstress to tailor this new formal attire for her. The measurement session had been conducted via the holonet, and although she hadn't been entirely convinced with the arrangements, the dress had fit like a glove when she tried it on for the first time nearly two hours ago.

Leia smiled to herself. The look on Han's face when she had appeared in the temporary crew room in the spaceport, in this obviously expensive gown, had been priceless. Naturally, he had been pleased to see her. 'Relieved' was perhaps a more appropriate description, for Leia had deliberately refused to accept any calls from him, and had not responded to the many voice messages he had left for her over three days. The only communication the couple had had with each other was when Leia had called to tell Han she could be planet-side that evening and had suggested that he ensure he was off-duty so they could spend some time together.

At the sight of Leia entering the crew room, Solo's jaw had unhitched. She had been a vision in white; a princess in every sense of the word. The rest of the squadron had certainly thought so as well, for some young pilots had nearly fallen out of their seats as they struggled to attention.

Although Solo's smile had been broad, his eyes had betrayed a level of caution and uncertainty about him. Leia had imagined that Han was trying to determine if she was still upset with him, and was concerned that he had totally blown his relationship with her. But she had smiled back, warmly embraced him, kissed his cheek, and handed him the clothes pack she had carried in. She had then suggested he have a 'fresher and change into the clothes she had brought for him, promising him a special night out.

Leia wished she could've witnessed Han's reaction when he'd realised the clothes she had brought him were in fact his formal mess uniform. If the grimace contorting his face when he appeared—dressed in the tab-collared shirt, high-cut jacket, dark trousers and boots—was anything to go by, she knew he had felt well and truly chastised. Han had even known where they were heading, for the smile he had given her was wan and thin.

"Cocktail party," he had remarked. "Lesser Hall. Bothan Parliament House."

Leia had laced her arm through his and borrowed one of his phrases. "You got it, General!"

The princess now looked across at her General Solo. She had asked him to remain close by, so that she could easily find him when Ascher arrived. As requested, Han had not strayed too far from her, aimlessly circling the floor, his hands jammed inappropriately into his pockets. Leia watched a scowl tighten across his face whenever an unknown officer—Imperial or Alliance—stared too pointedly at the Corellian Bloodstripe he wore on the outer seams of his trousers. Obviously annoyed with the undue attention he attracted, Han had taken up a leaning position against the main wooden wall, arms folded sullenly across his chest.

Han was so absorbed in not enjoying himself, it took Leia a few moments to discreetly capture his gaze. He jerked from the slouch into a state of anxious alert. With a graceful motion of her hand, Leia beckoned him over, belatedly realising it was a gesture she might have used on a servant.

Straightening his jacket and tugging at the tight collar of his shirt, Solo assumed a position next to the princess. His eyes scanned the entrance way and passage, before turning to Leia.

"Is she here?" he asked, fidgeting with his collar, his glance alternating between the entrance and Leia's face.

Leia's smile was fond and reassuring. "No, Ascher's not here yet. I just wanted to tell you how handsome you look tonight."

Solo's gaze slid towards the princess, his mouth set in a tight line. "You're enjoying this too much," he told her reproachfully.

Leia smoothed the lapel of his jacket and mischievously admitted, "Maybe."

Solo exhaled his frustration and anxiety into a long sigh, and thrust his hands into his pockets again. The wretched image he presented moved Leia to put him out of his misery.

Touching his elbow, she said, "What I really wanted to do was suggest you get yourself a drink. And relax."

His smile was wry. "Relax? Dressed up like this? With all these Imps crawling around the place?"

Leia instinctively grasped his arm and _shhed_ him in an attempt to lower his voice. Solo immediately played on her discomfort.

"I feel like I'm about to be arrested!" he declared.

Despite herself, Leia chuckled over her effort to quieten him. Her amusement brought a smile to his face. The fact that Dodonna had ceased his discussion with the Bothan ministry official and was staring at them harshly only brightened Solo's mood.

"If you see me suddenly barrel roll across the floor and then dive over the bar, you'll understand why," Solo explained. "And now I see why you didn't want me to bring my blaster."

"Han," Leia warned him softly, trying to control her mirth. "Now you're enjoying yourself _too_ much."

"Me?" he asked, pointing at himself in feigned innocence.

General Dodonna pointedly cleared his throat and interrupted the couple. "Is there a problem, Princess Leia?"

Solo turned his back on the elderly general and rolled his eyes at the princess. Leia gently prodded Han in the stomach.

"No problem, thank you, General Dodonna," Leia responded.

"The final guests should be here soon," Dodonna reminded her. "I trust it isn't expecting too much for us to maintain our decorum and officially welcome them to this evening's event."

"I can take a hint," Solo told Leia, but loud enough for Dodonna to hear. "I'll be checking out the bar. Just give me a little wave when you want me to come to your rescue."

Solo took her hand and squeezed her fingers. Leia reached up on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek.

"Have one for me?" she asked.

"I'll have two," he promised.

Solo cast a cursory glance across the trays of beverages the serving droids were dispensing before deciding the bar would definitely be the better option. Most sentients were content to select their drinks from the serving droids, so the saloon was relatively empty, except for the droids re-stocking their platters. Han ordered a Corellian ale from the multi-appendage 4X-VB droid, and settled himself against the blood-wood counter top.

The glass the droid deposited in front of Solo contained a pale beer with only a beading of froth and barely discernible bubbles of carbon dioxide. He frowned at the glass, then took a mouthful, wincing as the beer failed to meet up to his expectations. Another sip didn't convince his tastebuds this was a legitimate Corellian ale. He was considering telling the droid what it could do with this ersatz beer when a calm voice spoke from over his shoulder.

"Hiya, Wingman."

 _Wingman._ The old nickname she had called him back then. To the rest of the ship's complement, he had always been 'Slick'—the name he had acquired at the Academy. But to Ascher, he had been 'Wingman', the ideal description for exactly what he had been and meant to her: her wingman—always on her wing and slightly aft, following her lead and protecting her back.

Solo's eyes focused into the depths of his glass as memories of the time he'd spent with Ascher flashed through his mind. Their first meeting, where he'd managed to knock Ascher's meal down the front of her uniform. Then the realisation when he had reported for duty that the lieutenant whose tunic he'd soiled was also his new flight leader. The punishment she had frequently inflicted upon him for his flippant attitude and ill-discipline. The many sorties they had flown together. The occasions they'd saved each other's life. The friendship they developed. The first time they made love. The last time he had seen her…

Slowly he turned to face his old boss. Lover. Friend.

"Asch."

Ascher Saxel stood tall and straight in her formal Imperial uniform, a sense of pride and determination obvious in her stance. The practical short hair had not changed, and although there were new lines around her eyes and mouth, she had hardly aged. Ascher Saxel had been attractive back then, and had developed into a sensual woman now.

Solo didn't know if he had expected anything different. He could tell from the way her eyes travelled over him that she was conducting a similar inspection, comparing him to what he been like as lanky 21-year-old. He knew he had changed, more than just physically, and he wondered if the same could be said for her.

Commander and general were transfixed by the sight of the other, neither entirely sure who should be the first speak, or what to say. But Ascher had always been quicker on the uptake than Han.

"Bit of a dry argument around here, Solo."

Han's eyes widened, startled that he had momentarily lost his way, and asked, "What can I get you to drink?"

Ascher nodded at the beer sitting on the counter top next to his elbow. "Corellian?"

Solo made a sour face and shook his head. "Supposedly. Spiced water is closer to the truth."

She smiled at his remark. "I'll have a dry wine then, thanks."

"I might join you."

Ordering them two glasses of wine gave Han a brief respite and an opportunity to relax his neck and shoulders. But when the drinks arrived on the counter top, his muscles remained tight and cramped. He turned and moved away from the relative safety of the bar, offered the glass to Ascher without quite meeting her gaze. They drifted into the centre of the room in an attempt to find a place that felt comfortable. Coming to a halt, Solo finally faced her, an uneasy smile turning his lips. Ascher raised her glass towards him, and he met her glass with his.

"To old friends," Ascher said.

"Old friends," Solo agreed.

They sipped from their drinks, aware that the friendly toast between Rebel and Imperial had drawn the scrutiny of others. The added attention, combined with his uncertainty about what to say or where to start, forced Solo's eyes to hunt out the princess. He found her involved in discussions with the Bothan Ministry official and an Imperial admiral, but even then she was aware of his situation and was able to give him a nod and encouraging smile.

Ascher noticed his gaze had wandered off to locate the princess, and she allowed him the time to receive Leia's assurance.

"The princess is an incredible woman," Ascher quietly remarked.

Solo's focus returned to Ascher. He studied her curiously, trying to determine if the comment held any spite or sarcasm.

Hearing only admiration, he told her, "And more."

An awkward silence settled over them. Solo found himself almost gulping at the wine, and his glass was soon empty.

Ascher archly observed, "You must be thirsty."

She smirked at his apologetic smile, watched as he deposited the glass on the tray held by a nearby droid. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, an unsuitable gesture when in uniform, but one she remembered well.

"Want to get some fresh air?" Han asked, indicating the balcony with a tilt of his chin.

"I bet that's the best idea you've had in a long time, Solo."

Han gave her a begrudging grin in reply and conceded, "You're probably right."

He led her towards the glassine wall, pausing to allow her to pass through the doorway first. Ascher raised an eyebrow at his unexpected gallantry, but made no comment.

Enticed by the magnificent view, some guests had moved out onto the covered balcony, however all seemed content to return inside after a few minutes of gazing at the stars and the skyline. The result was an intermittent trickle of people, drifting out through the doors, straying not too far along the wooden decking before heading back inside. It was therefore not difficult for Solo and Ascher to find a private expanse of balcony away from the cycling doors.

Drawn to the panorama, Ascher moved over to the edge and leaned against the glassine balustrade. Solo followed and took up a position next to her. The air was crisp against their skin, vaporising their breath. The lights from the city glittered against the dark night sky, but there was only so much view they could look at, and eventually they turned toward each other.

"You're looking good, Han."

"So are you," he replied.

She nodded at the rank clasps on his collar. "Congratulations on achieving your rank."

He grimaced and shrugged a shoulder. "Field commission. They were giving 'em out to anyone just prior to Endor."

"Even smugglers?"

She had said it lightly, but the disappointment and accusation were evident in her eyes. Han had never hidden his criminal background, never been ashamed of it. He'd been a smuggler, and a damn good one at that. He could understand why she might have be disappointed that he had turned to a life of crime, but she hadn't been there. Smuggling had not been his first career choice, but the Empire had blacklisted him. His name had appeared on the database of every licensing authority and local security force, tagging him as a petty felon who should not be issued with a licence of any kind and denying him the ability to earn an honest living as a law-abiding pilot. As he hadn't had the finances to buy a new identity, alter his physical appearance or adjust his DNA, he'd had no other option than to work outside the law.

And, in his own way, he'd been able to make a stand against the Empire.

"Yeah," Han told her quietly, "even me."

Ascher glanced down at the leg of his trousers. "I see you've kept the 'Stripe."

Solo's jaw tightened. He had the impression that she was angry with him. _Still_ angry with him, after all these years. This was partly why he'd been avoiding—dreading—this reunion.

"It's Corellian," he pointed out, "not Imperial. I earned it. I'll wear it."

The stiff nod she gave him in reply suggested she did not necessarily agree with him. Her gaze drifted off towards the view again while she sipped at her wine.

Watching Ascher, Solo now wished he hadn't finished his own wine quite so quickly, or that he had brought another glass out here with him. He didn't know what it was he could do to appease her. He certainly wasn't going to apologise for what had happened in the past. And he held as much resolve now as he did back then about not justifying his actions.

His eyes focused on the rank pips on the front of her tunic. _Commander Saxel._ This was a Navy commander standing here, not the fresh-faced lieutenant he had flown with. She had been a recently promoted lieutenant commander the last time he had seen her, and he yet he hadn't congratulated her on her promotion despite the fact she had left a personal message telling him about her news. He hadn't even responded to her call. At the time he had been more concerned with what Ascher would say if she discovered that he had been sitting on an adverse report for a few months, had been grounded and removed from flying duties, and had come close to receiving a formal warning. Back then he hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but he had also deliberately set out to distance himself from her. He hadn't wanted to become reliant on another being, or be tied to another's expectations, especially after she'd told him she missed him. He had grown too close to her for his own comfort. By not returning her call, he had intended sending her a clear signal: _Back off. Leave me alone. I don't need you. I don't need anyone._

He wondered if he owed her an apology for being so damn selfish and immature back then.

"I guess I should be the one congratulating you," Solo conceded.

Ascher frowned at him.

"Leia tells me you're ship's XO." He tried a grin to lighten the mood. "That's a long way from the lieutenant I remember barking at me to do push-ups." When she didn't respond to his levity, he sobered. "You've earned your rank the hard way, Asch. You should be proud of your achievements."

Her eyes hardened. "I've been a commander for over four years, and that's as far as I was ever going to get, even if the Alliance hadn't won." The smile she gave him was humourless. "I've got no promotion prospects, you see. I spent eight years as a lieutenant commander, Han. Eight years. Most of my colleagues were at that rank for less than five. And I'm the only living member of my Academy class who is still a commander. Everyone else has been promoted. Or is dead."

Solo moistened the inside of his mouth. Ascher had been an outstanding flight leader as a lieutenant. She had toed the line, instilled discipline in her pilots and inspired them to achieve their best. She had been a highly capable pilot, as well. Consequently, she had received her promotion to lieutenant commander exactly on schedule. He didn't doubt that, long after he was out of the scene, her career would have gone from strength to strength. She probably did deserve more than she had achieved, but the odds had been stacked against her.

He shrugged regretfully, impotently offering an apology for something out of his control.

"That's the Navy, Asch. It's always been difficult for women."

"Try _'impossible'_ ," she huffed.

There was nothing more he could say to placate her, so he remained quiet. Then it occurred to him that he perhaps he _had_ made things worse for her if it had become known that she'd had an affair with him—a wayward lieutenant, her subordinate. Her judgement and motives may have been called into question, not unlike the way the Alliance High Command had reacted towards Leia when her relationship with a former smuggler had become common knowledge.

"Did they ever find out about you and me?" Solo asked quietly.

Ascher arched an eyebrow, then shook her head when she understood his concern.

"There were rumours," she admitted. "Especially after I submitted that plea of mitigation on your behalf. I was even questioned about the extent of our relationship."

' _Interrogated' is probably closer to the truth,_ Solo thought.

"But they were never able to pin anything on me," she continued. "It's fortunate we had been discrete about what we were getting up to in my cabin."

Solo pressed his lips together and could only nod in agreement.

"Don't worry, I don't think your discharge had anything to do with my career," Ascher explained. "It was more to the point that I'm a woman."

"The Alliance operates a little differently," Han suggested, then realised his comment would be either too-little-too-late or wasted on the career Imperial officer.

"Obviously, if they made you a general."

It took some effort for him to resist the urge to react to her taunt. Instead he said, "I tell myself that every day. I've got no delusions about why I'm where I'm at. I understand why they made me a general, and how quickly they could take that away. And I know how lucky I am."

Solo glanced over his shoulder and back into the reception hall, searching for Leia and wondering if it would be more painful to return inside and mix with the rest of the Imperials or remain out here with Ascher. He hoped that Leia would see him, sense his predicament, and come to his rescue. But from this angle, he was unable to see her.

Ascher's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

"You know, Han, the one thing I've always regretted, above everything else, is that we never got to talk the last time we saw each other."

Without turning to face her, he griped, "That might've had something to do with the fact I was on the receiving end of a court martial."

"That wasn't my fault." Her modulation was calm again, more like the sensible and logical tone of the boss he remembered. "You got yourself into that one all on your own."

Solo's head whipped around and he stared at her accusingly, his eyes as dark as his voice.

"Why did you put in that plea of mitigation for me?"

His resentment was palpable.

"You realise they were going to execute you?" she explained.

His anger faded as quickly as it had started, and he nodded grimly. "They had me locked up for so long, I figured they were going to kill whether they tried me or not." During the time he had spent in solitary confinement, he had dispassionately considered the possible penalties that would be metered out to him—his death had seemed the more likely. "I think I was almost looking forward to it, just to get the waiting over with and to get outta that brig."

"You don't mean that," Ascher gently chided.

He grimaced but said nothing.

"I submitted the plea," Ascher told him, "because I didn't believe that you deserved to die for what you had done. Even if I couldn't understand your motivation for doing what you'd done, it wasn't an offence that should've attracted a death sentence."

Han kept his bitterness to himself. _How gracious of you._

"Yes, I thought you'd been extremely foolish. But you were young and stupid, Han."

He silently agreed with her on that point.

"Above all, you were my friend. My wingman." She allowed her words to sink in before continuing. "I wanted to be there for you, in the only way I really could. The only way that would make a difference. So I just reminded the judge advocate about a few of your good points."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a sneer. "And what do I owe you for that, Ascher? Huh?"

She blanched. "I don't want anything from you, Han. I never have."

"You sure about that?" he goaded. "Because it sure seems like I'm missing something here. Why else did you want to see me?"

They stared at each other silently for long moments, the years of repression, anger, denial and bitterness shifting between them. When Ascher finally took a deep breath, Solo averted his gaze and ran a hand through his hair.

"All I've ever wanted," she told him quietly, "is to understand."

Solo met her eyes again and shook his head in frustration. "I can't explain it, Asch," he said. "I don't know why I did what I did. It just happened."


	13. Chapter 13

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **XIII**

 _I'm not spying,_ the princess reasoned to herself, shifting her position slightly so that she could maintain Han and Ascher in her line of sight.

Years of dedicated practice had allowed Leia to develop the art of conversing with dignitaries while keeping an eye on something else that was totally unrelated. By using this skill she had managed to watch Han and Ascher, and continue to chat politely to the Bothan First Assistant Secretary and Admiral Vonniiton at the same time. Even when Ascher and Han had moved out onto the deck, Leia had positioned herself so that a casual glance out the corner of her eye kept them in view.

Leia's interest in watching them was not born of jealousy or fear. After all, she had gone out of her way to ensure this reunion occurred. If she had wanted to be a bitch about it, she could have arranged for Han to be sent on a mission out of the system, but then neither she nor Ascher would have been able to see him.

 _I'm_ _ **not**_ _spying,_ Leia told herself again. She wasn't. But she wished she could overhear what Ascher and Han were talking about. She did know, however that whatever they were discussing, this would be difficult for Han. It had taken him three years to admit to the princess that he loved her. Leia was uncertain how he would react to seeing someone from his past. Someone he'd once been close to. A _woman_ he'd once been close to…

That unsettled feeling had returned to haunt her and the princess couldn't work out why, particularly as she was neither jealous nor concerned with leaving Han alone with Ascher. This was what _she_ wanted. This was _her_ idea.

Then it occurred to Leia that she may have been so attuned to the aura Han generated in the Force that she was sensing and reflecting his emotions, and it was in turn making her feel apprehensive.

The princess allowed her gaze to linger on Han and Ascher for longer than previously. Even from this distance she could detect the tension between them. She wondered how much longer she should leave them out there on their own before she went to his rescue, or whether she should wait for them to return inside on their own volition. Either way, any action or inaction she took might impact on the fragile bridges the old friends were attempting to re-establish.

Despite her unease, Leia had a compelling impression that she was required at the entrance to the Lesser Hall. She glanced at the doors, but nothing appeared out of order.

"Excuse me, gentles," the princess told the admiral and the ministry official. "There is something I must attend to."

The Imperial and Bothan nodded graciously as the princess left their company.

The main doors opened at Leia's approach and she recognised the distinctive growls of a Wookiee before she even saw him. Across the expanse of tiled lobby, an increasingly frustrated Chewbacca was arguing with five armed security guards. His voice was loud but relatively composed for Chewbacca. Above the soothing murmurs from the water feature Leia caught the odd word as Chewie attempted to make his way past. The Bothan guards were shorter than the Wookiee, but no less intimidating. Weapons raised, the tips of their fur stood on end as their purple eyes flashed with determination; there was no way they were going to allow the Wookiee access to the parliamentary hall.

The two Bothans guarding the entrance way snapped to attention as the princess left the hall. Pleased to see Chewbacca, but surprised nonetheless, Leia hurried across the lobby, waiting until she was a few metres away from him before calling to him, "Chewbacca!"

Chewbacca had been on Kashyyyk with his family for close to two months, thanks to Han somehow requisitioning an Alliance shuttle for his friend to use. Leia hadn't known when Chewbacca had been scheduled to return. As it had been a considerable time, in human terms, since the Wookiee had been home, Leia certainly hadn't expected to see him just yet. If anything, she had expected him to be absent for at least another month, and not re-appear right in the middle of a formal reception for senior Imperial officers.

["Princess!"] Chewbacca brushed past the protesting guards, deliberately ignoring their raised blaster rifles and their commands to halt.

"It's all right, Sergeant," Leia reassured the closest corporal, promoting the Bothan guard in a ploy she had learned from Han.

Chewbacca smothered her in a hug.

"Chewbacca is an old friend." She quickly returned the embrace, extricating herself to ensure the guards were appeased. "I can personally vouch for him."

Leia watched the security guards warily. They weren't entirely convinced, but at least they lowered their weapons when they realised the Princess of Alderaan was on friendly terms with the Wookiee.

["Is Han here?"] Chewbacca's blue eyes shined with excitement. ["I've got some great news to tell him!"]

Leia repressed a grimace. Although it would be rude to turn Chewbacca away, she didn't want to interrupt Han in the middle of whatever was happening with Ascher. And there were so many Imperials in the Lesser Hall, she wondered if temptation would cause Chewbacca to act impulsively.

"Han's inside," she admitted.

["Then let's go!"]

The princess refrained him with a gentle hand on his arm. Chewbacca regarded her curiously, waiting for her to explain. Leia cleared her throat, unsure quite what to say.

"It's wonderful to see you," she told him. "We missed you while you were gone."

Chewbacca blinked at her in gentle deliberation.

"How are Malla and Lumpy?"

["Is something wrong, little Princess?"] he asked.

Leia guiltily averted her eyes.

Chewbacca touched her shoulder. ["Princess?"]

His voice was soothing, calming, and Leia felt her uneasiness seeping away. She met his inquisitive gaze again, and suddenly everything was clear.

She shook her head and smiled. "There's nothing wrong, Chewie. Welcome back."

It took a few platitudes, a few regal touches, and a personal mention of the Foreign Affairs ministry official, before the guards eventually allowed the Wookiee to pass. Leia stopped Chewbacca before he entered through the main doors leading back into the Hall.

"I need to warn you about something before we go in."

Chewbacca's eyes widened expectantly. ["Yes?"]

"This is a formal reception. A formal reception for Imperial officers."

The corner of his mouth lifted up in a grin. ["I noticed their vessels when I docked."]

"The surrender negotiations were extremely successful, and the de-mobilisation process is about to commence. It is our honest belief that we can trust these Imperials. They have been more than cooperative, and we may even accept some of them into the Alliance forces."

Chewbacca sighed and rolled his eyes in a gesture Han would have been proud of. ["And…?"]

Leia swallowed and requested, "I need you to control yourself."

Slipping his arms through hers, Chewbacca chuckled and reminded her, ["Leia, you forget. I'm not Han!"]


	14. Chapter 14

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **XIV**

Ascher closed her eyes and drained the remains of the wine from her glass. This evening was not turning out the way she had hoped or expected. Her initial excitement at seeing Han had been overwhelmed by all the negative emotions and unanswered questions she had nurtured for twelve years. Not once during that time had she ever imagined that she might have the opportunity to see Han again. But now that she had, it was like nothing she had anticipated.

Following his court martial, it had been as if Han was dead to her, taken from her as quickly as if he had been killed on a mission. Ascher had attended the trial without Solo's knowledge, watching him from a distance with concern and compassion as the charges against him had been presented. The evidence against him had been damning and complete, the witnesses credible. The charges of insubordination, assaulting a superior officer and releasing an Imperial slave had been easily proven. But the trial had not eased Ascher's frustration at being unable to understand what had caused the Academy honours graduate and early-promoted lieutenant throw away a promising career.

After the court martial, Ascher had briefly spoken to Han in the security office of the Coronet Naval compound as his discharge was being processed. It had been apparent that the ensign she had known and loved had changed. Han had been underweight from over a month's detention, his eye and mouth severely bruised, no doubt from punishment inflicted by the stormtroopers who guarded him. Reticent, sullen, and in no mood for explaining himself, he had told her, _"_ _I'm not justifying myself to you. It's happened. Live with it."_ And so she had, even if she couldn't understand it.

Life without Han in her orbit had been quieter, less enthralling. But, she had reasoned to herself, their relationship had practically been non-existent anyway, withering after he had departed the squadron on posting to another ship. She had known then that he had been trying to push her away. Leading up to his court martial, they had barely communicated. It had therefore surprised her at the trial to learn about the adverse report he had earned, the grounding that had resulted after he had roughed up an intelligence officer, and the formal warning he had nearly been placed on. In their own way, this litany of his failings had helped to justify the dishonourable discharge.

To ease the pain, Ascher had come up with her own reasons why their relationship had been doomed from the start. She had been too old for him; at their respective ages of 27 and 20, a seven-year age difference had been significant. And while Ascher had been looking for someone who could offer her a commitment, Han had been a 20-year-old kid out for a good time.

The whole situation had been all her fault. She had led him on, had seduced him. She shouldn't have allowed her attraction to him to develop into a sexual relationship, especially as she had been his superior. If it had become known that they were fraternising with each other on an intimate level, it could have jeopardised both of their careers. As it was, in spite of what she had told Han, Ascher did believe that her promotion prospects had been curtailed after the mitigation plea she had entered for him at the trial had aroused suspicion.

Despite her attempts to forget him, Ascher had sporadically searched Imperial databases for any mention of Han Solo. He had been difficult to locate, travelling under aliases she assumed. But she had come across the occasional reference to him. Imperial Customs had commenced a dossier on Han Solo when, not long after his discharge, he had come under suspicion for smuggling. Much to her dismay, his criminal record had steadily grown from there.

After five years or so of checking out his record, Ascher had told herself enough was enough. She had to let him go. It was only recent that she had decided to look him up again. The Navy had been defeated at the Battle of Endor; the second Death Star destroyed; the Emperor dead, killed by the hand of Lord Vader; and considerable elements of the Imperial forces were surrendering to the Alliance. For Ascher, the Empire was over and a new Republic was in the process of being formed.

On a whim, Ascher had searched the databases for information on Han Solo. It was then that she had discovered that he had been associated with the Rebellion for the last four years. Supposition had placed him at the Battle of Yavin and the destruction of the first Death Star. There were reports of Rebel missions he had been involved with, battles he had participated in, and the significant casualties he had inflicted. The database had also established links between Solo and the infamous Rebel commander, Luke Skywalker, as well as the former Imperial senator, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. Information gleaned from the newsvid programs and wide-spread rumours suggested that Han had risen to the level of general in the Alliance forces.

When Ascher had learned of this, she had found it difficult to contain her resentment and jealousy. Here he was, a pilot dishonourably discharged from the Imperial Navy at the lowly rank of lieutenant, who had subsequently turned to smuggling and terrorist activity, and he was now her superior and on the winning side. Ascher had seethed for weeks. Eventually though, she had come to see the Empire for what it had been: a corrupt clique of upper echelon politicians and military officers who had used hatred and fear to rule the galaxy for their own personal benefit. Han was lucky to have escaped from it when he had.

Ascher had been fortunate that the majority of the officers on her ship had been keen to capitulate to Alliance forces as quickly as possible.

Her wineglass empty, Ascher's gaze returned to Solo. Han was staring past her shoulder, ostensibly looking at the view, but she could tell he was agitated. The muscles in his jaw were clenched and he bit on the inside of his cheek, a trait she could remember from when she used to reprimand him as an ensign.

Ascher regretted the tone of voice she had used with him, the acrimony that had overwhelmed her enjoyment of seeing him. All she had wanted was an explanation from him. Princess Organa had virtually guaranteed that Han would be willing to explain what had caused him to act the way he had. But then again, the princess had considerable faith in Solo. Ascher, on the other hand, had been consistently disappointed.

"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea," Ascher said quietly.

Han's eyes flickered across to hers. "Maybe it wasn't."

 _Maybe it wasn't,_ she repeated to herself, ignoring the remorse that seeped into her soul. _It's always difficult to go back. What is in the past, has passed._

"Would you like to go back inside?"

There was a mixture of relief and regret in his grimace, but he nodded in reply to her suggestion.

Ascher's eyes widened in alarm as she suddenly realised an immense shaggy being had stolen up behind Solo while she had been talking to him. She had only a moment to react, to call out Han's name, before the creature wrapped its clawed hands across Solo's eyes and growled menacingly. Initially startled, Solo noticeably jumped, however he quickly regained his composure and folded his arms over his chest.

"What do you mean, 'Guess who?'" he asked sarcastically.

Solo's calm reaction to the creature—a Wookiee, Ascher identified—stopped any thoughts she had of wrenching its hands from his head. _A Wookiee?_ she repeated to herself. _Surely it's not…_

The Wookiee made a sound that could only have been a chuckle, and his blue eyes gleamed with good humour. He growled at Solo again, only this time giving Ascher a conspiratorial wink. Ascher's mouth opened in wonder, her jaw dropping even further when she noticed that, underneath all the Wookiee hair, a grin had appeared on Solo's face.

"'Guess who?'" Solo asked again with exaggerated patience. "All right, lemme see. Is it Luke?"

The Wookiee shook his head and muttered a negative.

"Lando?"

Another no.

"Can't be Leia," Solo guessed. "Even _she_ doesn't have this much hair," he added, spitting out a mouthful of the Wookiee's pelt.

The Wookiee responded with a snarl and a light clip across Solo's head that quickly became an exuberant embrace, physically lifting the Corellian up so that his boots left the deck. Despite his protests to be put down, Solo returned the hug, reaching up to scratch behind the Wookiee's neck. When the Wookiee eventually complied and released him, Solo tackled the creature around the chest in a roughly affectionate gesture.

"Missed you, pal," Solo told him gruffly. "Told you I could look after myself for a while."

There was an accusing tone in the growl that followed.

"Okay," Solo conceded. "So maybe it _was_ Leia looking after me. But I'm in one piece."

The Wookiee ruffled the hair on Solo's head, then grabbed his shoulders, shook him excitedly and snarled something else at him that Ascher couldn't understand.

An indulgent grin spread across Solo's face. "Yeah?" he asked. "What's your big news?"

Putting on a self-satisfied air, the Wookiee puffed himself up to his full height and mumbled a few words.

Solo's _whoop_ of laughter exploded into the cool night air and he hugged his friend fiercely again.

"You sly vrelt!" he accused. "Certainly don't let those wroshyr twigs grow under your feet for too long, or anywhere else of your anatomy for that matter. Talk about making up for lost time. It's lucky you were only home for two months!"

The two friends departed from the embrace and Solo pushed a knuckle into the Wookiee's ribs. Then the Corellian sobered slightly, took the Wookiee's massive hand in his and shook it warmly.

"Congratulations, Chewie."

The Wookiee humbly accepted the tribute.

"Hey!" Solo suddenly crowed. "I'm gonna be an uncle again!"

Ascher frowned. Was this the same Wookiee from twelve years ago? She was already amazed at the close friendship between them. It was shock to see Han interacting with another being so warmly. He had always been a loner, and to see him such close friends with someone else—especially a non-human—was unexpected. Added to this was the ease with which Solo understood the growling Wookiee language, and she was thoroughly confused. How could whatever news the Wookiee have told Han, now mean that he was going to be an uncle—again—especially if Solo had no family?

While Solo was chuckling and talking to himself, the Wookiee became aware of the Imperial commander openly staring at them. Ascher realised the Wookiee had focused on her, and visibly gulped. In an attempt to gain his friend's attention, Chewbacca gently nudged Solo. Solo's smile wavered as he followed Chewbacca's eyes.

"Chewie's gonna be a father again," Solo explained softly.

The furrow in her brow deepened. "Oh."

The Wookiee pushed at Solo's shoulder and the Corellian looked slightly embarrassed, chastised for forgetting the introductions.

"Ah, Asch, this is Chewbacca."

The Wookiee bowed slightly and murmured an eloquent greeting.

"Chewie, this is Asch—" He corrected himself, " _Commander_ Ascher Saxel."

Chewbacca nodded thoughtfully, then asked his friend a question. Ascher was surprised to see the blood flush Solo's face.

"Yes," Han replied stiffly. " _That_ Ascher."

 _He must be the same Wookiee!_ Fascinated that the Wookiee appeared to know about her, and elated that Han had even bothered to mention her to his friend, Ascher watched with some amusement as Chewbacca fired a cacophony of grunts and growls at the Corellian. Solo shook his head in refusal. Chewbacca pushed a hand at his friend's shoulder and added a gentle request. Solo shook his head again.

"No."

Solo was tight lipped and already shaking his head again when the Wookiee repeated his entreaty. Cocking his head at the Corellian, Chewbacca then folded his arms across his chest and included what could only be an element of extortion, if the look of panic on Solo's face was anything to go by.

"All right. All right," Solo grumbled. "I'll tell her." He pushed away the friendly paw that was ruffling his hair again. He looked at Ascher and grimaced. "Chewie says 'Thank you.'"

The unexpectedly shove to his shoulder was enough to push Solo forward a few stumbling steps.

"Okay! Take it easy!" Solo appeased. He met Ascher's gaze again and swallowed, the larynx bobbing in his throat. "Asch, if you hadn't put in that plea for me, I would've been executed. If that had happened, Chewie couldn't have followed through on his Life Debt to me. And Chewie needed to do that to resolve his past, his future, his life." Han shrugged a shoulder uneasily. "So Chewie here wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for rescuing me."

Ascher blinked. The sentiment may have come from Chewbacca, but Han had spoken the words. Combined, the two somehow made everything seem clear. It now all made sense. Whatever had happened in the past, had happened for a reason. And this, all of this, was the reason.

Ascher smiled and told them, "I didn't rescue Han, Chewbacca. You did."


	15. Chapter 15

Old Friends Long Gone by CorellianBlue

 **XV**

The shuttle crew had completed pre-flight checks and was now paging the passenger who had not yet boarded.

"Commander Saxel. We're ready for take-off at your convenience."

Ascher glanced apologetically at her wrist comlink. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I won't be long." She looked up at Han and Leia. "I best be heading off."

As one of the last Imperial officers to commence demobilisation, Ascher had spent the last week liasing between the Alliance and Imperial ships. She had spent many hours working with the princess, and perhaps just as many in the company of Leia and Han on a social basis. Finally, though, it was her time to be repatriated. To lose the trappings of an Imperial officer and become a private citizen again. She was fortunate that the days she had spent with the couple had helped prepare her for this transformation.

The princess smiled at her warmly. "Good luck, Ascher. I hope we meet again sometime in the future."

Leia surprised the commander by leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek. Ascher clasped Leia's hand in hers.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"Leia," the princess corrected.

Ascher nodded. "Leia. It has been an honour to meet you." She gestured at Solo with a tilt of her head. "I hope you have more success with Han than I ever did."

Solo opened his mouth in protest. "Hey!"

Pretending to ignore him, Ascher continued, "He can be quite a handful."

"Two handfuls," Leia agreed.

Ascher turned to Han, smirking at the way his mouth twitched with embarrassment.

"I guess this is it, Wingman."

Solo pressed his lips together and exhaled deeply. "Guess so, Boss."

Ascher smiled in gratitude at the old nickname he had used. "Take care of yourself, and the princess. And do what she tells you. Okay?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Okay."

There was a moment of uncertainty between the two old friends, then Ascher straightened herself to attention and touched her cap in salute; commander to general, subordinate to superior. Solo responded to the compliment with immaculate precision, returning the salute with the ease of an old soldier. Then he dropped his hand and held it out towards Ascher. She accepted his hand gratefully, allowed him to pull her towards him and gently embrace her. She wrapped her arms around his back and returned the hug, closing her eyes as she felt the kiss he lay against her cheek.

"Be good," she whispered.

"I will," he promised.

Releasing him, Ascher attempted a smile but felt her bottom lip tremble. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and composed herself. Her eyes teared and she adjusted her focus to take in the profile of the _Millennium Falcon_. Chewbacca had stopped his maintenance work on the freighter's upper hull and raised a hand in farewell. She briefly returned the wave, then spun on the toe of her boot. Ascher squared her shoulders and, without looking back, marched up the ramp of the shuttle.

Solo and the princess moved away from the shuttle as the whine of its engines increased. Silently, they watched as the vessel lifted up on its repulsor power, turned slowly towards the entrance of the hangar, passed through the magnetic field and out into open space.

Leia smiled as Solo pulled her against him, placed his hands on her stomach and rested his chin on the top of her head. She covered her hands over his and leaned back into him.

"You've got some very interesting history, Solo," she told him.

His gaze was distant as he hugged her closer. "Yeah." Then he realised what she had said, and he considered her curiously. "You and Asch were getting' rather cosy there."

Leia sighed, "Mmhmm."

"Did you talk about me much?"

To his annoyance, she repeated, "Mmhmm."

Solo held her tighter. "So. What did she tell you?"

Leia's response was non-committal. "Just girls' stuff."

He squeezed his arms around her. "What sort of girls' stuff?"

Leia had trouble keeping a smirk from her lips. "You know. Girls' stuff."

He moved his cheek down the side of her head and whispered into her ear, "Play nice now, Your Highnessness."

She squirmed and wiggled further into his body. "Or else…?"

His breath was warm in her ear. "Or else I'll have to take matters into my own hands. And come up with a few special ways to get it out of you."

Chuckling fondly, Leia took his hand and turned in his embrace so that she could face him. "Ascher told me you used to have trouble keeping your mind on one thing for too long. She said you had a stunted attention span."

Solo pulled a face. "Is that all she remembered?

Leia laughed at the disappointment in his voice and the bewildered look he gave her.

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head, reached up on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the mouth. She pulled back from him and silently acknowledged how at ease this man made her feel. Happy. Content. Settled.

What had Ascher told her: _"It sounds like it's time for you to either bail out or settle down, Princess."_?

Perhaps, she admitted, it was.


End file.
